Save Me From This Mess I'm In
by Potikanda
Summary: What would have happened to Kurt if Burt had died after his heart attack? Would his life have been completely different? I thought it might have been, so here is what I envisioned might have happened. Rated M for possible smut in later chapters.
1. Chapter 1

**So, I apologise to everyone who has been waiting oh so patiently for me to update! Real life, well, lately it has been kicking my rear from here to Timbucktu (sp?)! That happens when you have a new job, which is what I'm training for atm. Here is a little something I've been working on for the last little while. Thanks so much to GleekMom, not only for being my Beta, but also for reminding me I hadn't posted the darn thing yet! HAHAHA!**

**So, I've been listening to Curt Mega sing Uptown Girl over and over again, and watching Sebastian flirt shamelessly with Blaine (not that I can really blame him ;D) and I've come to a conclusion: I'm not 100% sure why, but I totally love the Kublastian love/lust triangle! And the word Kublastian! It sounds like an amazing type of explosion! HAHAHA! **

**Anyway, enough of my rambling. I'm truly sorry about this fic. Not that I think it's bad or anything; quite to opposite. I'm quite proud of this. I tried to write what I thought would have happened to Kurt if Burt had never pulled through his heart attack. It's just, Kurt has some really trying times, and it's more angsty than I think I've written before. However, I could be mistaken. Feel free to drop me a line and let me know. You can leave it in a review, or email me at ocean underscore 69 (at) hotmail (dot) com. Also, you can send me messages on Twitter, if you feel so inclined, the user name is Potikanda!**

**Now that I actually AM done rambling, here's the first chapter of this story!**

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><p>Kurt's eyes dart around, shiftily, as he takes in his surroundings. He's in a back alleyway, the garbage overflowing from the bin and creating a mess behind the Chinese food restaurant. His heart pounds as he looks furtively around, his hands clambering onto the side of the dumpster.<p>

It's been three days since he last had anything to eat. His stomach has shrunken, and he's fainted twice. He needs to eat, or he'll end up in the hospital. Again.

He watches for people coming around the corner of the building, as well as for the employees who work there. They nearly caught him last time he was there; he has to make sure he is exceptionally stealthy. Clambering up, he slides in amongst old chow mein, and grilled vegetables, and chop suey. He sorts through the refuse, finding a couple of egg rolls that still look palatable. He shoves those in his pocket; he'll save them for later. He needs something a little less filling for right now. He knows if he eats too much, he'll puke. And that's not something he can handle right now.

Kurt Hummel is nineteen years old. His father died of a heart attack a couple of years ago, leaving him alone in the world. His mom died when he was eight. His dad's girlfriend offered to take care of him, but he couldn't burden her with his issues. He told her he would be fine, and left. His dad's shop was sold, and he managed the proceeds as well as he could. But the money ran out a few months ago. He lost his house, he lost his car, and he lost himself.

He didn't drink, not after what happened with Ms. Pillsbury's shoes. He didn't do drugs, either, although that had been a viable option for a while, knowing Mr. Ryerson. He was still a virgin, although a God he didn't believe in knew how, what with all the perverts who lived around Lima. He'd been propositioned more than once, from people thinking he was a streetwalker. He'd almost done it, too. There had been times when he'd been so desperate for food that he had seriously considered losing his virginity to a random stranger for cash.

But he was Kurt Hummel. He may be eating out of dumpsters, sleeping in parks and alleyways, and showering at the YMCA. But he wasn't loose, and he wasn't insane. Kurt was brave. Brave enough to withstand anything life could throw at him. And he would withstand this too.

Kurt's body tensed as he listened to the sounds of the dishwasher who sauntered out to the alley with a tub of scraps. He ducked down, as far as he could go, hiding his body in the shadows of the dumpster to avoid being seen. He slid on a pile of bean sprouts, and landed on his ass with a thump.

Panicked, his bright blue eyes shot up, meeting warm hazel ones as the dishwasher looked in surprise inside the dumpster. Hazel stared at blue, and the dishwashers' mouth dropped open in pure shock.

Kurt scrambled up, and within seconds had fled the trash bin, high-tailing it down the alleyway. A faint shout could be heard, as the dishwasher called after him. It didn't matter what the man thought of him, Kurt believed. All he wanted was to not be caught. He was pretty sure that scavenging from a dumpster was illegal, and the last thing he wanted was to be thrown in jail for something as simple as needing food.

He rounded the corner, and jack-rabbited for the far side of the street. The mall was close. He would duck in the washrooms there until the danger had passed.

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><p>Blaine walked back into the kitchen of the Moon Wok restaurant, his eyes huge with disbelief. The cook stared at him, his eyes crinkling as he took in Blaine's bewildered expression.<p>

"Why are you taking so long with emptying the scraps?" he asked Blaine, a smile gracing his weathered lips as he stirred the rice pot, and checked on the bean sprouts.

"I saw…" Blaine trailed off, his hand going to his mouth and his eyes wandering to the open door, as though his thoughts trailed off the way his mouth had.

The cook wandered over to the door, looking up and down the alley.

"What did you see?" he asked Blaine again, confusion marring his features. He wasn't the brightest man in the world, not smart like Blaine, but he was far from being dumb. He knew when something was bothering someone, and something sure bothered Blaine right at this moment.

"Nothing," Blaine replied, giving his head a shake, and returned to the dishes stacked in the sink.

"Ben?" Blaine hesitantly asked a few minutes later. The cook lay down his spatula, and cocked his head at the younger man.

"Yeah?" he replied, his hands moving to his hips in a fair imitation of his mother's stance when he had been younger.

"Do you believe in ghosts?" Blaine turned his huge, hazel eyes on Ben, and the old man burst out laughing.

"Ghosts?" Ben answered, as he wiped away a tear from his eye. "I'm from the Philippines, which means, that I do believe in ghosts, yes. Or, as we call them; _Multo_. This is the soul of a dead person who has returned to the mortal world. So, to answer your question, yes, I believe. Why?" Ben finished, his eyebrows raised in curiosity. Blaine blushed softly, his eyes darting once again to the door to the alley, before returning to the man before him.

"I think… I may have seen one today," he whispered, his voice low enough that Ben had to strain to hear him over the clanging and banging from the pots, pans and water rushing in the kitchen. Ben's eyes widened, and he threw a glance to the doorway as well. He murmured softly, as though afraid the ghost would be able to hear him.

"Well, the next time you see this ghost, try not to make it angry with you. Offer it some food, that usually allows them to see you aren't going to hurt them, and they will leave you alone," Ben finished, before returning to his work. Blaine blinked once more, and then returned to his own workstation.

He may have seen a ghost, or an angel, or something ethereal this evening, but he still had a job to do, and he couldn't afford to slack off.

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><p>Kurt stayed in the bathroom until nearly closing. The mall staff had finally found and ejected him from the room, at a few minutes to nine. When he was politely but firmly escorted from the building, he waited a few minutes outside, just breathing in the chill night air.<p>

Kurt shivered, thinking that this was the coldest night he'd felt in a while. He would have to find a well-sheltered spot in order to spend the night out of doors. As it was well past nine by the time he would get there, he decided the homeless shelter would be too difficult this time of night to get into. Tucking his hands into the well-worn pockets of his jeans, he quickly walked downtown, looking for the perfect place to hide.

Most of the officers that worked around here knew him by sight, and they usually left him alone, or told him to move on, but there were still one or two who liked to make his life a living hell. Those were the ones who had something to prove, and they enjoyed watching him sweat. They usually asked stupid questions, such as where did he live, and what was he doing out so late at night?

He sighed. Hopefully he would get Officer Maloney this evening. She had always been kind to him. She had even shared part of her lunch with him a couple of times, and he had been more grateful than she could have ever imagined.

Ducking quickly into a deserted alley behind the old roller rink, Kurt skirted a couple of small trash bins, and spotted his hiding place. He threw furtive glances around; making sure no one saw him duck through the sheet of plastic that covered the doorway to an old abandoned movie theatre. Kurt pulled out the door. With a swirl of fabric, he slid inside. As he slipped through the dark, musty room, he made sure to glance everywhere around him. He noted the dust lying thick on the carpet under his feet, the yellow tinge to the windows from the light outside, and the sign of rats lying by the popcorn machine in the lobby.

Oh yes. This would make a very good hiding place. At least for a few more days. Until he got caught again.

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><p>It was now three days later. Kurt wandered the street, not really paying attention to where he was going. His mind whirled in confusion, as his food-deprived body tried desperately to control itself. He lurched to the side, his shoulder hitting a wall, and he paused, looking around at the blurry figures that darted around him. He took in a short figure approaching him, before his eyes rolled back in his head and he slumped to the ground, unconscious.<p>

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><p>"Shit!" Blaine dashed forward suddenly as the boy before him passed out, catching him before he had a chance to knock his head on the ground. Falling to the sidewalk with the weight of another person pulling him down, he looked around furtively at the people that were deliberately stepping around and past him and this boy. It was as though they were intentionally ignoring the plight of this young man; his ghost, his angel.<p>

He whipped out his cell phone and called for an ambulance. His other hand cradled the head of the boy, which was now lying limply on Blaine's lap. He spoke quickly but calmly to the woman who answered the phone, advised her where to send the ambulance, and hung up. Reaching down, he lay his hand on the boy's forehead, noting that he seemed a bit colder than he should be. Blaine pulled off his coat, and lay it over the boys' prostrate body. Feeling the young mans' wrist, he took note of the pulse. It was erratic and fluttery, and it made Blaine's heart break to know that the young man before him may not live.

The ambulance pulled up a bit down the block, and they rushed to the two young men, quickly taking vitals for the one lying on the ground. They bundled him up, asking Blaine questions every so often about how he had found the young man. Blaine answered as best he could.

As the ambulance attendants were loading the young man into the ambulance, Blaine asked a single question that would change his life forever:

"What's his name?"

The attendant looked at Blaine out of the corner of his eyes, and responded with a question of his own.

"You sat with him for over ten minutes and he isn't your friend?" Blaine shook his head, his soft curls bouncing around as he did so.

"I've only seen him once before, from a distance." The attendant studied the young man before him with wise eyes, and a small smile graced his lips.

"His name is Kurt Hummel, according to the driver's licence we found in his pocket. I shouldn't even be telling you that, but you seem like a nice kid. And you did just save his life," he finished, turning back to his partner. Together they got into the ambulance and the driver leaned out the window to call back:

"We'll be heading to St. Mary's," and with that, they drove off.

Blaine smiled softly. He would just pop over to the Moon Wok and let them know he'd be a bit late. Ben would cover for him. Besides, it's not like he would be missed terribly. Blaine only worked there because he enjoyed the social interaction. His parents had enough money to take care of him and any future children he might decide to have. Although, being gay, that might never happen either.

Blaine sighed, and began his walk to the Moon Wok.

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><p>Kurt awoke in the hospital. His mind was still a bit muddled, his eyes didn't want to focus, and there was someone beside his bed. He blinked a few times, trying not to move much. His brain still felt a bit light, and his stomach churned gently in his abdomen. He fought the urge to throw up, and slowly the focus returned to his eyes. He looked to his left, and found a young man sitting there, watching him.<p>

They sat staring at each other for a few moments. _He's gorgeous,_ Kurt thought to himself as he studied the man seated beside him. _What a gorgeous man,_ Blaine internalised, his eyes roaming over Kurt's face as he tried to memorise the other man.

When Kurt realised they were both staring, his face slowly flushed, accenting his sunken eye sockets, his sharp cheekbones, and his jutting chin. Blaine watched the slow blush creep over the other man's face, and felt his own face heating up. He blinked softly, and took his eyes away from the other man. A shared moment of awkwardness ensued, and then Kurt broke the silence.

"So, are you an intern, or something?" he asked softly, his eyes roaming over the room as he took in the IV drip, the heart monitor, and the small bouquet of flowers resting on the table next to the bed. He reached over to look at the card, which said "From Blaine". Blaine. Who the devil was Blaine?

"Uhm, no, I'm not an intern," the other man answered, just as softly. He watched Kurt look at the card on the flowers. _Idiot, _was all Blaine could think as he watched the confusion flit over Kurt's face. _Of course you shouldn't have signed your name! He has no idea who you are!_ Blaine mentally face-palmed, his eyes flickering between Kurt's face and his hand, which was still stretched out to the flowers.

"Umm… those. Those a-are from m-me," He stammered slowly, another blush creeping up his neck to his face and covering his cheeks and nose. Kurt looked at Blaine, his eyes wide as he studied the other man more intently.

"So, you're Blaine?" Kurt asked, an eyebrow quirked as he asked the question, making Blaine feel about two inches high. Blaine gulped gently, and nodded his head quickly.

"I'm the one who found you. I actually caught you as you passed out," he added, and Kurt groaned, covering his face with his hands.

"Oh my Gaga," Kurt shook his head and groaned again, his embarrassment too much right at that moment. Blaine leaned forward, concerned for the boy in the bed.

"Are you all right?" he asked, his tone concerned, gentle, and kind. Kurt released his face from his hands, glaring at the boy sitting beside the bed.

"Fine, other than a very bad case of being embarrassed!" Kurt retorted harshly, and a blush crept up Blaine's cheeks.

"You have nothing to be embarrassed about," Blaine replied, his voice low and soothing. "From what the doctors have told me, you were closer to death than you were life. It was close, but they managed to pull you back before…" Blaine trailed off, looking out the small window to stop from embarrassing himself further. He felt like he was going to cry. How did this boy manage to make him feel things he had never felt before? Like the downright terror he felt in his gut every time he thought about Kurt dying? Or the panic he experienced when he realised this boy might disappear again, never to be seen or heard from again?

Kurt felt his cheeks flame again, and he looked out the window to take his mind off what Blaine was telling him. He had almost died this time? He wondered what it would have felt like. He felt a sudden flush of anger towards the men and women who had saved him. His chance to see his parents, and the doctors had stolen it from him. His eyes flashed angrily, and he turned back to Blaine.

"Go away," Kurt muttered to Blaine, his eyes smouldering with the banked fires of rage that coursed through his veins.

"Kurt," Blaine murmured, the concern in his eyes for the other man sending Kurt into a blinding, towering rage. How dare he! Kurt meant _nothing _to him. Why was this stranger so fascinated with him? He couldn't take it any longer and the rage burst from his throat.

"_GET OUT!_" Kurt yelled, his throat closing in his anger, choking off his air supply. He choked, then gagged, and then threw himself from the pillow, attempting to get out of the bed.

"Woah!" Blaine shouted, grabbing Kurt's arms and pinning him down. He called out for help from the on duty nurse at the nurse's station. "Hey, I need help in here!" A couple of orderlies raced into the room, expertly pinning down the openly sobbing man. One pulled out a syringe and stabbed Kurt in the arm.

"No! No… _Why_ would you save me? I could have… c-could have b-been with t-them…" Kurt began sobbing in earnest, the orderlies looking on in pity and sympathy. A nurse showed up a few minutes later, bringing soft straps that she attached to Kurt's arms and legs. Blaine began to protest, until she replied with a quiet "It's procedure."

Kurt's sobs slowly became less and less pronounced as he calmed, and Blaine's heart finally began to slow.

Kurt finally lay back on his pillow, the drugs taking over his system. He looked shyly over at Blaine, frowning slightly, as though there was something he should be remembering, but not too fussed about what it was. Yes, those drugs were really making him high as a kite.

At this point it was nearly time for all visitors to leave, so Blaine murmured a quiet "Good night," and made his way out of the room. He paused at the door, looking back. What he saw brought tears to his eyes as he studied the boy lying in the bed.

Kurt looked out the window, staring into the inky blackness of the night, his eyes never stopping long enough to focus on any one thing before travelling onward to the next stop.

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><p><strong>There you have it. I sobbed when I wrote this last part; I'm a very empathic person, I could <em>feel<em> everything that Kurt was going through. I guess it helps me write better, but it makes the sad part very difficult. I get so emotionally invested in what I write that if it's sad, it can take _days_ for me to feel even the slightest bit of happiness again. Guh.**

**I hope you guys like it. I have a couple of extra chapters ready to post, so if I don't update as much on the other stories, at least I have _something_ to give you wonderfully patient, amazing people! If you liked it, review please! I adore reading your comments, criticsms, issues with the characters, whatever. But I beg of you, allow me the courtesy of replying to your comments! And thank you so much to all of the people who chat with me on a regular basis: GleekMom, all of my Tweethearts (you know who you are), cipimentel983, Wickelicious, More With Truffles, and NiffLover396 to name a few! You guys are so amazing, letting me rant and complain about my real life issues! And GleekMom, I owe you so much, and when we get to New York in January, I'm buying you dinner (since neither of us drink LOL)! **

**Thanks so much for reading! Hope you stick around for the next installment, and I promise to work on Our Love, or Blush, or one of my other stories soon!**


	2. Chapter 2

**KLAINE MADE LOVE. I died. Thank God this was written before I died. Here. Have a chapter. Have a million chapters. Have ALL the chapters. I'm just gonna float off somewhere and remain dead. Love You All.**

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><p>Blaine returned the next day, but Kurt was gone from the room. He dashed to the nurses' station, and begged them to tell him where Kurt had gone.<p>

"Oh," one of the nurses said softly, catching a pitying glance from an orderly that had helped out with Kurt's freak out yesterday.

"He's been sent to the psychiatric unit," she murmured softly, trying to keep her voice low to maintain the privacy. "He had another anxiety attack last night, at around four in the morning, and they took up for observation." Blaine gasped, horrified. She nodded her head in sympathy. "I only tell you this because I know you're his boyfriend," she added, earning herself another gasp from Blaine. "I've seen the way you look at him, it's hard not to figure it out," she finished, turning her head to another patient who had come to the station looking for ice chips. After asking the other patient to hang on a sec, she passed Blaine a small scrap of paper with a series of numbers on it.

"That's the room number and section of the hospital he's in. Go, find your man." She threw him a conspiratorial wink, and returned her attention to the other patient.

Blaine grabbed the paper and flew from the nurses' station, asking a helpful orderly the direction of the new wing he was going to. After being pointed in the proper direction, he began walking.

Why was he so infatuated with this boy he had never met before? What kind of angelic pull did he have over Blaine? Because, truth be told, Blaine was almost positive this young man was an angel, sent to earth just for him. He had never really been very religious before, had gone to Sunday school a few times as a kid, but had never been overly fond of hellfire and damnation, which seemed to be what the preacher was always talking about. But if a person like Kurt could exist, then why not God? Why not angels? Why not an entire world in the clouds called Heaven where people were inexplicably happy? As long as Kurt was with him, he would be happy to be in Hell, or Heaven, or Limbo, or whatever.

Blaine finally made his way to Kurt's room, and looked in the tiny window to see Kurt looking out the window on the other side. His heart raced as he imagined all the terrible things that Kurt could yell at him if he entered the room. He was frightened of the boy, but still wanted nothing more than to go in there and hold him. Make him feel loved, special. Because he truly was special. He was Kurt.

A woman stopped beside him, looking in the room at Kurt. She had dark brown hair with lighter highlights. Her hair was fixed in a longish bob, and beside her stood a freakishly tall young man, about Blaine's own age.

"Are you a friend?" The woman asked him, her hand resting gently on Blaine's shoulder. He shook his head slightly, his reply hesitant and unsure.

"Not really. We met once, and then I caught him when he passed out yesterday." Blaine's shoulders shrugged as he recounted his story. It was mostly the truth. "I'm the one who called the paramedics," he finished lamely, bringing his hand up and running it through his hair nervously.

The woman looked at him in awe, as though she understood exactly why he was there, and none of it was what he had mentioned. He silently cursed his inability to lie, especially to adults. The younger man reached over and gave Blaine a small squeeze on the other shoulder, flashing him a grim grin.

"I'm Finn," he offered, his hand stuck out in greeting. Blaine clasped it, feeling the warmth and comfort of the gentle giant before him. "And this is my mom, Carole," he added, turning to the woman beside Blaine, who also stuck her hand out for a handshake. Once he had his hand in hers, however, she pulled him into a warm hug, patting his back in typical motherly fashion. Blaine turned a soft pink at the display of affection, especially since he had just met this woman.

"We're Kurt's step-family," Carole finally released Blaine long enough to explain. Although, it didn't explain very much.

"What do you mean?" Blaine asked, now curious in spite of himself.

"Kurt's natural mother died when he was quite young, eight, I believe," Carole began rambling, and Finn wandered off, murmuring something about snacks. "Kurt and his father were together for almost seven years by themselves. Then Kurt developed a crush on my Finn, bless his heart," Carole waved in the general direction of where Finn went. Blaine's eyes widened in surprise; this wasn't the type of thing you would normally tell a random stranger. He expected Carole must be pretty upset to be divulging her stepsons' darkest secrets.

"When that happened, he decided to introduce his dad to me at a parent-teacher interview, of all places!" Carole tittered nervously, looking in on the boy lying morosely in the bed. She let out a tiny sniffle, and Blaine offered her the handkerchief he always kept in his back pocket. Because, you never know.

"Thanks," she replied softly, wiping her eyes gently. She attempted to return it, but he advised her she could keep it. He had plenty more at home.

"Then my poor Burt had a heart attack while he was at work." Her sniffles became more pronounced, and Blaine shuffled over to her, slipping an arm around her shoulder for comfort. She turned her head toward his shoulder, and was soon crying in earnest. "H-He never woke up from t-the coma h-he was in…" She trailed off, and Blaine wrapped both arms around the weeping woman. He led her to the bench closest to Kurt's door, and helped her seat herself. He just sat there, holding her for a good ten minutes, until her tears abated, and she had to use the handkerchief again.

"Oh," she sniffled tearfully. "I've ruined it," Carole looked forlornly at Blaine, and he smiled gently at her.

"I told you, you could keep it, remember?" Blaine murmured, rubbing her back in small circles. She smiled tremulously, and lowered her head.

"Once he was gone, Kurt asked me to help him sort out his father's things. I was the one who found… found the r-ring…" Carole gulped, trying to maintain her tenuous composure. "Burt had planned on asking me to marry him. I'm sure of that." She whispered softly, her eyes once again bright with tears. "He was the sweetest, kindest, gentlest man I've ever known. And I'll never be able to share my life with him." Carole dissolved into tears again, just as Finn returned.

"Mom? Mom, are you okay? Mom, tell me what's wrong," Finn gently took Blaine's spot, who was definitely willing to relinquish the role of caregiver at just that moment. It wasn't that he minded comforting someone; that wasn't it at all. He just knew that Finn knew his mom better than Blaine did, and would be able to give better support. He released Carole into Finn's open arms, and made his way back to Kurt's room to study the boy once more.

He waited there, unsure what to do or say to the boy that wouldn't get him riled up. Finally Finn showed up, and took the decision away from him.

"Come on," Finn gestured, his hand out to allow Blaine to precede him. Blaine nearly shook his head, but then realised that this was the whole reason he had come. So he gently pushed open the door, and together with Finn, went to say hello to Kurt.

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><p>Kurt turned toward the door as he heard someone entering. Before him stood Carole, Finn, and Blaine, the strange boy from yesterday. He still didn't understand why Blaine kept coming to see him, but figured that he just wanted to make sure Kurt was all right before going his own way.<p>

"Carole, Finn, what are you doing here?" Kurt asked wearily, the drugs in his system not even allowing him an opportunity to get angry with them for being here. Finn strode over to one side of the bed, while Carole took up a position on the other side. Blaine quietly took the one comfortable chair, located on the other side of the room from where Kurt's bed was.

"Hey Kurt," Carole murmured, her hand reaching out to the bed, and smoothing it down gently, a nervous action she had mastered while waiting in the hospital for Burt to awaken. "We… well, we wanted to come check on you…" She trailed off, not really knowing what to say to the boy who would have become her stepson if fate had been kinder.

"Yeah, dude," Finn agreed, his hands in his pockets as he shuffled nervously beside Kurt's bed. "We missed you, and when we found out you were here, we had to come visit. You, like, disappeared, man," he accused, his hurt eyes finding Kurt's and his mouth pulling down into a frown. Kurt shrugged softly.

"After dad's money ran out, I had nowhere to go," Kurt's voice was soft, sombre. He returned his gaze out the window, as though maintaining eye contact was far too difficult. He continued. "I spent quite a few days in a shelter. There were a few really nice people there, but there were also a few people who weren't so nice. _I'm not sure, but it may have been because I'm gay, I don't really know. But one night I found myself…. assaulted…_" Kurt's eyes began to tear up as he recalled the horrifying incident. "I vowed that nothing like that would ever happen to me again. So I took to the streets. I kept a knife in my pocket at all times. I slept only for an hour or two at a time, making sure I was in a safe place and moving on frequently. I used the YMCA for showering and keeping up hygiene, they got to know me pretty well." His voice trailed off again, as though he didn't know what else to say.

"After your dad…. Well, we didn't see you in school anymore," Finn muttered, his hand running through his hair as he tried to make sense of what Kurt was telling him.

"I couldn't go back to school, Finn," Kurt turned back to look at Finn again, his eyes full of the pain and sorrow of losing someone that close to you. "I couldn't take the looks. Or the staring. The pity they gave me when they saw me coming down the hallway. I ran, Finn. I ran because I didn't want any of it to be true. I wanted…. I wanted my father." Kurt's teary eyes finally overflowed, and Carole began crying along with him. She reached over to him, pulling the younger man into her arms and simply holding him as he cried. Finn reached out and laid a soothing hand across her back, and with his other arm, he rubbed circles into Kurt's back, trying desperately to soothe him as well. When the tears finally stopped flowing, nearly half an hour later, they were all emotionally exhausted. Carole and Finn had to leave, unfortunately, but they promised to return as soon as their errands were complete. Carole kissed Kurt on the cheek in farewell, and Finn gave him a huge, bone-crushing hug.

"I missed you, man," Finn repeated, before walking out the door following his mom.

Kurt pulled his knees up to his chest. The straps that held him down made this difficult, but in the end he finally managed it. He sat looking out the window with his arms wrapped around his knees, shivering lightly. But he couldn't be bothered with pulling up the blankets. He was used to the cold.

Blaine stood silently and made his way over to the side of the bed. Kurt looked at him, the tear tracks still on his cheeks from crying, but he didn't care.

"Why are you here, Blaine?" Kurt asked, his voice so soft that Blaine had to strain to hear the question.

"I can't seem to stay away," Blaine confessed, his cheeks tinged a soft pink. "Ever since the day I saw you behind the Moon Wok, I haven't been able to get you out of my head. I dream about you, I think about you all day long, and I don't know why," he finished, his blush deepening until he was crimson all over his face. Kurt blushed too, embarrassed for the man standing beside him.

"I'm sorry," Kurt replied, unsure of what to say to a man who basically just confessed that he could never stop thinking of him. Blaine chuckled softly.

"Don't worry about it," he answered easily, a grin forming over his face. Kurt looked at Blaine and thought he had never seen such a gorgeous smile in all his life. "I could have much worse things stuck in my head… Like Friday, by Rebecca Black!" He grinned, and Kurt thought it must be infectious because the next thing he knew he was grinning back. They stayed there together, just grinning like fools, for the better part of a minute, before Blaine chose to break the silence. His grin vanished suddenly.

"I'm sorry. You know, about your dad," Blaine murmured softly, wishing he knew the young man enough to be able to hug him. Kurt's grin vanished as well, and he looked down at the bed. He started picking at the blanket nervously.

"Thanks," Kurt whispered, a soft trace of sadness underlying the tone of his voice. He looked ready to cry again, and Blaine sat on the edge of his bed. Kurt whipped his head up in surprise; he was sure that Blaine wasn't interested in his sob story. But when Blaine tentatively held his hands out for a hug, Kurt couldn't resist. He scooted forward slowly, and wrapped his arms around the other man as best he could with the lack of freedom the straps gave him. When Blaine's arms surrounded him, Kurt felt at peace. For the first time in at least two years, he felt as though everything just might be all right with his world. Blaine pulled back a bit, and Kurt looked him in the eyes.

They sat there for at least ten minutes, just staring at each other. Each felt at peace, serene, and neither knew the reason for it. Kurt leaned in again, and Blaine began rubbing Kurt's back. They sat together until Carole returned, almost three hours later.

Carole paused outside the door, looking in to the room, taking note of the way the two boys seemed to be taking comfort from each other. She was a firm believer in true love, and love at first sight, and all the other love related things mentioned in romance novels, but this was the first time she had been around to witness it. Her heart soared as she realised that maybe, just _maybe_, Kurt had found a man who would love him unconditionally. She debated leaving the two alone, but realised she only had a short amount of time in which to visit, so she reluctantly opened the door and stepped to the side of the bed.

Kurt looked up from where he lay cuddled into Blaine's chest. They had spent the better part of the last three hours talking, and Blaine now knew a lot about Kurt. Likewise, Kurt knew a lot about Blaine. They hadn't done anything more than talk and cuddle, but Kurt felt almost human again, after everything that had happened over the past few months.

Carole smiled at both young men as she held out a backpack for Kurt. Frowning, he took it and opened the zipper. Gasping, he felt tears sting his eyes as he surveyed the contents.

"A few changes of clothing; I kept some of the more expensive clothes you had, Kurt," Carole explained. "Also a couple of issues of Vogue, some of those nutrition bars you like, and a couple of bottles of Perrier Water. I also threw in your old mp3 player. I hope those will hold you for the night, Kurt," she murmured, leaning over to hug the young man beside her. She ruffled his hair softly, making sure not to mess it up too drastically. She needn't have worried, Kurt thought. It had been forever since he'd styled his hair properly, or done his moisturising regime. He didn't have the money to buy things like moisturiser, or hair gel. Even so, she was trying, and he returned her hug tightly, before saying good bye for the night.

Kurt sniffled softly as he watched Carole leave, realising how little she had changed in the past couple of years. She truly was an amazing woman. He leaned back toward Blaine, who knew, without having been told, that Kurt needed his quiet comfort just then. He wrapped his arms back around Kurt, and they simply sat there for a while longer, enjoying the warmth and serenity of each other's presence.

"Blaine?" Kurt whispered softly, afraid to break the calmness surrounding them.

"Yes?" Blaine replied, leaning back long enough to look Kurt in the eyes.

"Would you…" Kurt blushed, trying to find the words. "Can you ask the orderlies if I can have a shower? And maybe get these straps off?" Kurt's voice trailed off to a whisper. "I'm all right. I mean, I've been better, but I won't have anymore outbursts like last night. I promise." Blaine took a chance, and leaned over the other man, placing a soft kiss into his hair.

"You bet. I'll be right back." He squeezed Kurt once more, and then left the room, heading to the nurses' station. Kurt took the opportunity to skim through one of the Vogue magazines Carole had brought. It was for this past August and September, so the styles were still very fashionable, as it was only October. He was currently drooling over some of the outfits that Michelle Williams sported for the cover story of the September issue, as Blaine walked back in the room followed by a doctor and two orderlies.

"This young man says you're ready to start behaving," the doctor said sardonically, his bushy eyebrows lifting up his forehead, as Kurt blushed in embarrassment.

"Yes," Kurt whispered, trying not to allow himself to get angry with the man for deliberately patronising him. "I'd like a shower, if possible," he added softly.

"Then by all means!" The doctor boomed, and the orderlies removed the straps. As they fell away, Kurt rubbed his raw and tender wrists. The orderlies helped Kurt up, and frog-marched him over to the bathroom. Before entering the room, he glanced back at Blaine, who seemed to sense his fear and turmoil.

"Don't worry. I'll still be here when you get out." Blaine flashed Kurt another grin, his smile reciprocated by the other boy as he entered the bathroom for his shower.

"You are the sweetest boyfriend," said a pale, red headed nurse who came in to change the sheets on the bed while Kurt was washing. Blaine smiled softly, not bothering to correct her. Knowing his luck, he wouldn't be allowed to see Kurt if he admitted the truth.

Kurt finally emerged from the bathroom, wrinkled like a prune but happy about being clean. It had been a while since he had felt this good, and he was inclined to enjoy it. He looked around the room, panicking a little when Blaine wasn't there.

"Blaine?" Kurt's voice quivered as he called out, hoping the other man was close enough to hear him.

"I'm here, Kurt," Blaine entered the room, followed by the doctor. Kurt breathed a sigh of relief as he caught sight of the dark-haired man. Blaine walked straight to Kurt, wrapping his arms around the other, enveloping him in warmth. Kurt snuggled in, delicately placing his head on Blaine's shoulder. The doctor looked at the two boys, and spoke to Blaine.

"Just remember what I said, Blaine. Kurt is still fragile, but with your help he'll be all right." He placed a hand on Kurt's shoulder. "Won't you?" Kurt flushed madly, resenting the implication that there was something wrong with him, but gulped down his retort and answered with a meek "Yes, sir."

Kurt was to finish off today in the hospital, long enough for the nurses to make sure he was doing fine, but he could be released by tomorrow. He was mildly perturbed to realise he would have to be released into someone's care, though. They wouldn't let him leave if they believed him to be a danger to himself or others. He sighed softly.

Once the doctor left, Blaine guided Kurt back over to the bed, laying him down softly, and tucking the blankets around him tenderly.

"Why are you doing this, Blaine?" Kurt asked once he was all set. Blaine flushed gently, his mind trying to come up with an answer that didn't sound creepy. '_Because I can't get you out of my head,_' wouldn't work. Neither would '_Because I fell in love with you the first time I saw you_'.

"Because…" he hedged nervously. "Just because. I like you, I think you're amazing, and you deserve to have someone take care of you. I would like to be that person, but I'll understand if you prefer to have Carole take you home with her and Finn."

"No!" Kurt exclaimed, his hand flying to his mouth in shock. "I mean… I'd really like it if you… well… I mean… I can understand if you don't want to… I know if it were me I probably wouldn't want a stranger living with me… but, if you're willing… I'd really like to stay with you!" Kurt finished awkwardly, his blush spreading over his face and neck, making him look closer to a lobster than a person. Blaine smiled amusedly.

"Kurt, I would be honoured if you would come and stay with me." Kurt looked up at Blaine with a huge smile on his face. Blaine returned the smile and sat there holding Kurt's hand and talking softly until Kurt fell asleep.

* * *

><p>"Wait, Blaine, <em>this<em> is where you live?" Kurt looked around in wonder as he took in the white pillars and the grand staircase leading up to the French doors that announced the entryway to one of the biggest houses Kurt had ever seen.

"Technically, it's where my parents live," Blaine chuckled as he took in Kurt's astounded face. "I live over in the west wing. My parents don't usually come over there unless I'm being berated for something, so don't worry about your privacy being disturbed." Blaine pulled along the little roller suitcase that Carole had brought Kurt earlier that day. It held quite a few of the clothes she had saved for Kurt, which happened to hang on his bony frame. Kurt had sighed and advised Blaine he would have to tailor all of the clothes so they actually fit again. The suitcase also held a number of Kurt's old things, such as his moisturisers, hair bands, ties, shoes, and his laptop.

"I'm not worried about privacy, Blaine," Kurt snickered softly. "I bet I could hide in there and no one would be able to find me for a week!" Blaine chuckled along with Kurt, and proceeded to show him to the west wing of the house, pointing to the various areas as he went.

"Kitchen is over there, indoor pool is down the hall and on the left, games room is on the right in the same hall, and here we are," Blaine opened a door on his left, and gestured to Kurt to precede him into the luxurious room. The four poster bed was made up to look like something out of a fourteenth century Irish castle, all done up in greens and yellows. The rest of the room was decorated tastefully to match, even down to the mahogany wood used for all of the furnishings. Kurt simply stood and stared for a while. Blaine chuckled softly after the first minute, and wandered off to a door located in the middle of the wall.

"Kurt?" Kurt's head whipped around to stare at Blaine, who had opened the door to show him something. He quickly darted over, peering through the door in awe. On the other side of the door was a nearly identical room, only you could tell this room was occupied by a young man barely out of teenage hood.

There were clothes in a hamper by the closet door, a large wardrobe half open with a few clothes spilling from it, a desk set up with a laptop and a lamp for studying. But by far the most impressive thing was the huge flat screen television mounted on one of the walls, resting over an entertainment unit with every game system known to man. Wii, Xbox, Playstation, all of the most recent games, and a huge shelf with all of the older games as well. Another shelf held movies, everything from Disney to horror movies, Kurt realised as he perused the titles. A stereo set up beside the bed completed the room. Blaine immediately walked over to it, turning it on. Katy Perry's melodic voice erupted from the speakers, singing about Teenage Dreams. Kurt laughed, enjoying Blaine's face as it turned red and turned the stereo down a bit.

"Yeah," Blaine muttered sheepishly. "I like Katy Perry. So sue me!" Kurt chuckled some more, shaking his head softly.

"I like her too," Kurt replied, his amused glance brightening Blaine's face considerably.

"But Gaga's better!" Kurt laughed and Blaine gasped, holding his heart in feigned shock.

"Blasphemy!" Blaine joked, and the two boys collapsed onto Blaine's bed in a fit of giggles.

"Well, That's your room," Blaine pointed back to the first room, relaxing on his bed. "This is my room. We have a connecting door, so if you need anything, all you have to do is ask." Kurt lay down beside Blaine, his mind whirling gently, overwhelmed by the gratitude that filled his heart. He clasped his hands against his chest, folded lightly, as he stared up at the ceiling for a few minutes. Blaine frowned softly, and raised himself up on his elbow, looking down at Kurt.

"You okay?" He asked softly, his hand reaching out automatically to sweep Kurt's bangs from his forehead. Blue eyes met Hazel ones, and Blaine felt a tremor slip through his body at the force of Kurt's gaze.

"I've never met anyone like you, Blaine," Kurt whispered, his hand coming up to gently brush against Blaine's jaw. Blaine's eyes fluttered shut at the touch, his face leaning in to the hand that was caressing him. "I don't know where you came from, or why, but I do know that if it weren't for you, I would likely be dead by now." Blaine's breath hitched in his throat as he heard the words from the other man. He knew it was true, but to hear Kurt actually say it, made it somehow more real. Blaine quickly shook his head to clear the scary thoughts that invaded his mind. He looked deep into the blue eyes below him, seeing nothing there but trust.

"I've never known anyone like you, either, Kurt. Do you remember the first time I saw you? Behind the Moon Wok?" Kurt nodded silently, his face flushing again as he recalled running and hiding from this beautiful man. "When I went back into the kitchen, I actually asked the cook, Ben, if he believed in ghosts. I honestly thought you were a ghost, or a spirit, or an angel, or something like that." Kurt blushed softly, shaking his head in denial. Blaine caressed Kurt's jaw, his thumb rubbing over Kurt's pronounced cheekbones. "Yes. It's true. And until I found out your name, I referred to you as my angel," Blaine watched as a soft tear slipped down Kurt's face. He wiped it away gently with the pad of his thumb, watching another tear well up and slip out of the other eye. Blaine leaned down, and gently kissed the cheek that showed the tear track. "Please don't cry," Blaine whispered, cuddling Kurt softly into his warmth.

"I'm not…" Kurt's voice hitched, and he buried his head into Blaine's shoulder, wrapping his arms around the other man. "I'm not an angel," he sniffed, "I'm not even good looking… I'm not intelligent… I'm too skinny… I'm ugly!" Kurt whimpered once more, before erupting into indelicate sobs. Blaine held him close, shushing him gently and murmuring soft noises into Kurt's hair. He wanted to refute all those accusations. Throw them out the window and let Kurt know just how amazing, gorgeous and smart he truly was. But how could he do that and make Kurt actually believe it? He could think of only one way.

Blaine allowed Kurt to calm down a bit, then pulled back gently, ignoring the soft gasp from the other man. He slid his hand under Kurt's chin, lifting his face softly, allowing Kurt plenty of opportunity to slip away if he wanted. Then he leaned forward and placed his lips gently against the other mans', moving them slowly over Kurt's slightly chapped lips. A soft sigh escaped Kurt's mouth as he began to kiss back, his lips tentative and hesitant against Blaine's sure and strong ones. As Kurt's eyes fluttered shut, Blaine brought his body slightly closer, leaning his entire body against Kurt's in comfort.

Blaine finally broke the kiss gently, pulling back with a soft pop. Kurt's lips pushed forward gently, questing for Blaine's. His eyes slowly slid open, the pupils dark and nearly fully blown. He sent a questioning look at Blaine, who smiled down at him.

"I think you're beautiful," Blaine murmured, his hand caressing Kurt's cheek once more, then sliding down to wrap itself with the fingers behind Kurt's ear, his thumb resting lightly across Kurt's cheekbone. He pulled Kurt closer again, and kissed him with all the fervour that he felt. Kurt's eyes rolled back in his head as he leaned up into the kiss, his body craving the warmth and closeness. Blaine pulled back again, gently, and Kurt whimpered at the loss.

"You're beautiful. I can't understand why you wouldn't feel like it, but you are. And you are definitely intelligent, Kurt." Blaine leaned back staring hard at the man who was looking up at him as though he was the world. "Spending two days talking with you in the hospital has convinced me that you're no simpleton." Kurt snorted, turning his face away.

"No, Kurt," Blaine murmured again, slowly pulling Kurt's face back to stare at him again. "You really are smart. I know you don't believe that, but it's true. And as for being too skinny, that's simply due to a lack of food. It's not something you can control very well when you live on the streets, Kurt," More tears slipped from Kurt's eyes as he listened to this man who barely knew him explain away his biggest fears. Blaine continued, deliberately ignoring the tears rolling down Kurt's face.

"I really do think you're my angel, Kurt Hummel," Blaine whispered, leaning down and kissing each of Kurt's eyelids. "Before you, I was simply wandering through life, trying to make a place for myself. Now I know I'll be just fine in anything I do. But only if I have you beside me," He dipped down once more, kissing Kurt's lips with a feather-light touch, pulling back almost as quickly. Kurt blinked, his mind trying to focus on what Blaine was asking. Blaine blushed as Kurt stared at him.

"Blaine? D-Did you just…?" Kurt stammered, his heart in his throat, wondering if he had misheard the other man.

"Kurt, would you do me the honour of being my boyfriend?" Blaine asked in a quiet but strong voice. Kurt gasped once more, and a few more tears leaked from his eyes. A sob ripped from his throat, rendering him incapable of speech. Blaine worried that perhaps he was moving too fast, and slid back. "I'm sorry, Kurt," Blaine murmured, looking over the crying man. "I know it's too fast. You don't have to do anything you don't want to," At that, Kurt wrapped his arms around Blaine's neck, and pulled him down into a long kiss.

"No," Kurt murmured between kisses. "I would _love_ to be your boyfriend, Blaine Anderson." Blaine sighed softly in relief, and leaned down, kissing his new boyfriend passionately.

* * *

><p>When Blaine awoke, it was still dark outside, and a soft whimpering was coming from the open door leading to Kurt's room. He looked over to his alarm clock, and the time read 2:37AM. He threw back his blankets, groaning at the interruption. Climbing from the bed he rubbed his eyes, passing a hand through his curly hair in an attempt to wake himself up a bit more. He followed the sounds until he reached Kurt's room, but was surprised to see no one in the bed.<p>

Looking all over the room, which was difficult due to the shadows thrown from the lights outside, he finally spotted Kurt's balled up form in a corner. He made his way closer, but the form cried out, and shrunk back into the corner of the room.

"Kurt?" Blaine asked tentatively, stopping about five feet from the other man. "Kurt, its Blaine." The form continued to whimper so Blaine walked to the night table and turned on the bedside lamp. He returned his attention to the boy in the room, who was shivering violently. The glassy look in Kurt's eyes told Blaine that Kurt was sleep walking, and by the looks of things, he was having a nightmare as well.

"Kurt," Blaine murmured again, slowly making his way forward to Kurt's side. He stopped at about three feet, when Kurt began thrashing back and forth, his hands in front of him trying to push the invisible monsters away. "Kurt. Kurt, I need you to wake up…"

* * *

><p>Kurt was surrounded. It was high school all over again. The football jocks with their McKinley jackets towered over him, leaning down and breathing their foul, rancid breath on him. They packed around him, smothering him, trying to push him to the ground. Karofsky was in the front, his meaty hands grasping and yanking on Kurt, wherever he could reach. Kurt pulled away, crouching down into a corner, his tears going all but unnoticed by the jocks who wanted nothing more than to have him for lunch. Karofsky's face leaned down, kissing Kurt and Kurt let out a terrified whimper. Then they were all gone. They had vanished like mist. There was only one person left. He was across the room, but Kurt could feel the malevolence sent his way. Kurt couldn't back any further into his corner, and the man was approaching. A light switched on somewhere, and he could now see the face of the man who stalked him. It was a familiar face; a face Kurt would never forget, even on his deathbed. Jacob.<p>

It was the face of the man who had tried to rape him. He screamed.

* * *

><p><strong>OOOOOhhhhh... Cliffhanger! Too bad I'm still dead. Mwahahahaha! XD<strong>


	3. Chapter 3

**Apologies to my Beta, GleekMom, who DID send me the last chapter betaed, or at least I thought she did, but I forgot to post the betaed version. It's fixed now. So sorry about any grammar or scene mistakes!**

**Since the latest chapter of Our Love is currently in GleekMom's hot little hands, I figured I'd post the next chapter of Save Me. It's already been betaed, so I have no worries about it. Hope you guys like it. XD**

**Oh. And my grandmother passed away this weekend, so I apologise if I don't respond to reviews and things right away. I'm still trying to process everything. She was a ripe old 89 years, and passed in her sleep, but she will be missed. She was a matriarch to an amazing family, spread all over Ontario, and we all learned quite a bit from her. She was the strongest woman I have ever known, and I love her. Goodbye, Grannie. **

* * *

><p>Kurt let out a high pitched scream as Blaine made his way to the other man's side, avoiding punches and kicks as Kurt attempted to defend himself from his nightmare. He shook the other man harshly, trying desperately to wake him. Kurt's eyes took on a focus, blinking a couple of times, and stared into Blaine's eyes as he finally recognised that this was <em>Blaine<em>, not Jacob, and Blaine would never hurt him. A sob left his throat, and Blaine's hands reached around to comfort Kurt.

That was all it took for Kurt to begin crying in earnest. Blaine held him close, kissing and caressing his hair, cheeks, forehead, and any other part of Kurt he could reach. After a few minutes, Blaine pulled back, looking deeply into Kurt's eyes, searching for answers to the terrifying experience they had just shared.

"Please," Kurt whispered, his voice harsh from overuse. "Please, may I…. Would it be all right…. Could I…?" Kurt's fingers clenched reflexively on Blaine's arms, and Blaine instinctively understood what Kurt wanted. He picked Kurt up, bridal-style, and carried him into his own room. He lay Kurt carefully on the bed, then lay beside him, pulling the covers over them both. As Kurt snuggled closer, Blaine wrapped his arms around Kurt, sending all of the warmth, love and devotion he could to the man who had fallen asleep beside him already. Placing a tender kiss to Kurt's hair once more, Blaine yawned, and promptly fell asleep as well.

* * *

><p>In the morning, the alarm woke them both up at seven, the time Blaine had to get up for his shift at the Moon Wok. Kurt groaned, and rolled over, earning him a chuckle from the man who was cuddled into his backside. Blaine threw off the covers, and stood, stretching his arms high over his head as he did. Kurt opened one eye, sleepily admiring the view. A smile graced his lips, before he popped up in surprise.<p>

"Wait!" Kurt looked around the room in shock, his eyes darting to the connecting door, and he looked at Blaine who was staring at him in concern.

"Everything okay?" Blaine asked cautiously. "Not another nightmare, is it?" he added cheekily, sending a sly grin Kurt's way. Kurt flushed madly, as his face fell.

"A nightmare, Blaine? Is that why I'm in your room? In your _bed_?" Kurt's voice lowered until he was nearly whispering, and Blaine meandered over to the bed, seating himself beside the other man. He wrapped his arms around Kurt, leaning into the embrace, trying to provide Kurt with support.

"Yes, Kurt. That's why you're in my bed. Don't you remember waking up last night? You asked if you could sleep with me. " Blaine's comforting presence dispelled the feeling of dread that enveloped Kurt when he tried to think back to the night before. He shook his head; nothing was clear but the feeling of overpowering dread and loneliness.

"N-No. I don't. I just remember being afraid." Kurt whispered, his head buried in Blaine's shoulder. "Thank you," he added, his face flushing again as he wrapped his arms around Blaine's middle.

"It was no problem," Blaine answered, rubbing his cheek against Kurt's hair. "Don't ever be afraid to ask me for help if you need it, okay?" Blaine tilted Kurt's head up to look him straight in the eyes. Kurt blinked away a solitary tear, and leaned forward, kissing Blaine gently on the lips. When Kurt pulled back, he murmured "'Kay," and lay back on the bed.

Blaine watched the other man, one of his hands holding Kurt's while the other held him upright beside his boyfriend. With a soft sigh, Blaine released Kurt, and stood once more, grabbing a clean set of clothes from the wardrobe.

"I'll be back in a few minutes, all right?" Blaine asked, his worried eyes roaming over the prostrate man lying on the bed. Kurt threw his arm over his eyes, sighing.

"I'll be fine, Blaine. Go. Have your shower. I'll be here when you come back," And with that Blaine left the room, dashing as quickly as possible into the shower and emerging refreshed and clean.

When Blaine returned to the room, he found Kurt dozing lightly in the bed, a shaft of pure sunlight covering his half-naked body. Kurt wasn't muscled, not after months of living on the street, but Blaine was unprepared for the jutting bones of the man he was falling in love with. He walked over to the bed, and began tracing the lines of jutting bone through Kurt's skin. Kurt awoke, lifting his arm from his eyes and blinking softly as he felt the gentle caressing of Blaine's fingertips. Blaine lingered over each of Kurt's ribs, his collarbone, his hip bones which jutted straight up towards the ceiling. Kurt's breath hitched as Blaine's fingertips caressed his skin. He threw his head back, moaning softly as the sensations swept through him.

Blaine looked up at Kurt, head thrown back, eyes rolled in his head, muscles tensing and releasing with each movement that Blaine made. Blaine decided to be a bit bold, and lowered his head to Kurt's chest. He kissed Kurt's sternum softly, earning himself a loud gasp from the other man.

"Blaine…" Blaine's name on Kurt's lips sent shivers up Blaine's spine, especially when he used that low, breathy moan. Blaine leaned forward once more, and took Kurt's nipple in his lips. Kurt gasped again, his head shooting up to stare at Blaine, eyes blown almost black with lust. Kurt reached up, tangling his fingers in the other mans curls, pulling him closer.

"Oh…. Mmmm… OH!" Kurt's eyes flew open once more as Blaine gently gripped his nipple with his teeth, rolling it gently between them. "Holy…. Shit!" Kurt's voice cracked as he was overwhelmed with the sensations.

"Mmmmmm." Blaine hummed, causing Kurt to writhe on the bed, his now fully erect cock pressing urgently against Blaine's side, covered only in a thin layer of pyjama fabric. Blaine reached up to cup Kurt through the pyjamas, the heel of his palm rubbing gentle circles as he slowly began kissing his way down Kurt's stomach.

"Blaine…." Kurt whispered, his voice suddenly shy and hesitant. "There's something you should know…" Kurt's body flushed; Blaine thought to himself that it just might be the most adorable thing ever.

"What's that?" Blaine asked, lifting his head from his kisses to stare softly into Kurt's eyes.

"I've… well…. I've never…" Kurt blushed even stronger, and Blaine frowned softly. _All this time? Living on the streets and he'd never had sex before? How was that even possible?_

"It's all right, Kurt," Blaine soothed, his mind whirling, and placed a last kiss on Kurt's stomach. "We don't have to do anything you don't want to." And he pulled himself up to lay beside Kurt, who was now blushing his hardest and turned away from Blaine.

"Hey. Kurt, look at me." When Kurt refused to turn, Blaine placed a hand on his jaw and turned his face to him. Kurt still refused to look him in the eyes. "Kurt, I really care about you. When you're ready to do…. things, I will be more than happy to do them with you. But until then, you have _nothing_ to be ashamed of. So stop looking like a kicked puppy, and kiss me, okay?" Kurt's eyes had teared up at Blaine's little speech, but he leaned up and kissed Blaine with all of the love and gratitude he felt.

"Shit!" Blaine's eyes flew open and he checked the clock. "I'm gonna be late!" He jumped up, pulling on his jeans from yesterday and yanking a fresh tee shirt from the wardrobe. He dashed into the bathroom, quickly brushing his teeth and hair, heedless of the fuzzy way his hair got without gel, and dashed back to the bed. He kissed Kurt softly, passionately, and advised him that he would be back after his shift. Probably around four or so. Kurt had full access to the entire wing, and if he needed food, he could walk down to the kitchen or ask one of the maids to bring him something. Then with one more kiss, and a quick hug, he dashed from the room, leaving Kurt sitting there in his pyjama pants, flustered, but extremely happy nonetheless.

Kurt looked down at his pants, and realised he was still hard as a rock. Well, shit. Kurt sighed and prepared himself to go jump in Blaine's shower. He needed a cold one after all that.

* * *

><p>With Blaine gone, Kurt took the opportunity to wander around the west wing alone. He found the pool room, which looked amazingly inviting, but he didn't have any swim trunks. He was <em>not<em> about to go swimming without trunks, especially as he had seen a maid or two wandering around in the hallways.

Kurt wandered into the games room, thinking he might just play a game of pool, but it turned out to be no fun when he made a great shot but had no one to brag to. He quickly left the games room.

He made his way down the hall to the kitchen, thinking he might rustle up some breakfast. He walked into the room and stopped, staring at the gorgeous man who looked him up and down, making him blush furiously.

"Bonjour!" The man purred, as he continued mincing some French onion. The man smiled, and Kurt felt himself smiling back in response.

"Bonjour," he replied tentatively. The man put down his knife and marched straight over to Kurt, who took a step back cautiously. The man held out his arms and proceeded to wrap them around Kurt, giving him a tight, fierce hug.

"Oh Dieu ! C'est merveilleux de pouvoir rencontrer quelqu'un qui peut parler ma propre langue avec moi !" The chef laughed, and Kurt mentally translated as he realised the chef was quite happy to have someone to speak French with. The man stepped back, grinning from ear to ear, and Kurt smiled too.

"Oui, j'ai pris français tout au long de l'école secondaire. J'ai adoré ! Je devine que vous êtes le chef ici ?" Kurt asked, advising the other man he had taken French lessons through high school, and asking if he was the chef in this home.

"Mais bien entendu ! J'ai été ici depuis maintenant dix ans. Peux je se renseigner de qui vous êtes ?" The chef replied, sharing with Kurt he had been the household cook for ten years, and asking who Kurt was.

"My name is Kurt Hummel," Kurt replied, earning himself a huge smile from the man next to him.

"I am the great Alain Noel Paschel! Perhaps you have heard of me?" Alain wiggled his eyebrows and cackled softly, earning himself a delighted chuckle from the brunette.

"I'm afraid I haven't." Alain's face dropped in mock horror, earning another giggle from Kurt. Then he smiled again, and Kurt couldn't help notice that his entire face lit up when he smiled. "But I am very happy to meet you!" Kurt said, sticking his hand out in greeting, and Alain clasped it warmly with both hands. Then, quick as lightning, he leaned in and kissed Kurt on each cheek, in the manner of only the truly French.

"Ahhh… I am pleased to meet you as well, monsieur Kurt Hummel! Now, if you don't mind, I have an omelet that begs for my attention." He turned back to the onion, scraping it into a bowl with a few other ingredients, and beginning to grate some cheese into a different bowl. Kurt stood there watching for a few minutes, then grabbed a knife and began chopping a red pepper. Alain looked over and smiled, quickly realising Kurt was quite at home in the kitchen; he even held his knife correctly.

As they quickly prepared the ingredients for the omelette, Alain told Kurt about his hometown, Champigny-Sur-Marne, a small town nestled right in Paris. Technically, it was a suburb, but the people there often felt themselves part of a closer community than just being Parisians. Kurt told Alain about growing up in Lima, his mother, his father, and being bullied in school for being gay.

"Gay, you say?" Alain looked over at Kurt, a small look of sympathy on his face. "That is too bad. No one should be bullied for being, how do you say? Complètement eux-mêmes."

"Completely themselves," Kurt murmured, translating automatically for the other man. His heart hurt when he had told Alain about the bullying, but to know that Alain was all right with him being gay, made the situation just a tiny bit better. "Thanks, Alain. It's been nice to have someone to chat with." Alain smiled again, and nudged Kurt with his shoulder.

"Perhaps we become friends, eh?" Alain murmured, scraping the cheese from the cutting board into the extra bowl, and announcing they were ready to cook as soon as the mistress and master awoke, and were ready for breakfast.

As Alain bounced around the kitchen, cleaning up his mess, Kurt leaned against the counter, watching him. He smiled softly, actually feeling quite content with the little bit of work he had done this morning. And he had helped out a friend.

"I'd really like that," he muttered softly to himself. "A friend would be really nice after so long without one,"

Alain pulled him into the center of the room, and soon they were dancing while cleaning, listening to Alain's radio which was set to the top 40 station. As they danced and cleaned, Kurt realized he was happy. Full-blown, all-out, completely and totally happy.

It scared and elated him in equal amounts.

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><p>"Paschel!" A high pitched voice called from the dining room, Alain's cue that the Andersons were now ready for breakfast. He motioned Kurt to one side, and began whipping up the eggs for the omelets. As he worked quickly, Kurt glanced around the room, looking for something to do.<p>

"Kurt, would you please squeeze the jus d'orange?" Alain asked, sensing the other man needed something to keep his mind off his past. Kurt acquiesced, striding over to the food processor and a bag of fresh California oranges.

As he processed the oranges, Kurt thought about his life, and where he wanted to go in it. He'd been living on the streets for so long he had lost focus of himself. He thought back to high school, and wondered what Mercedes Jones would have said about who he had become. His eyes widened. Heck, what would Rachel Berry have said! They both would probably have ganged up on him and made him return to school. He shook his head sadly. Unfortunately, he really didn't feel as though he had that option.

He finished processing the oranges, bringing two full glasses of freshly squeezed orange juice to set beside the two omelets Alain had prepared. One of the maids, Alain called her Emily, took the tray out to the dining area and served the family. When she returned, they all stood around and chatted for a while, waiting for the family to finish. Once they got the go ahead to clear the dishes, Alain spoke directly to Kurt.

"Kurt, have you seen the dining room yet?" Kurt shook his head at the chef, his eyes widening slightly.

"No I haven't. Is it as ostentatious as the rest of the house?" Alain laughed at him and nodded.

"Oui! Go. Check it out. And bring back the dishes with you when you come. The family should be gone by now!" Alain waved him off and turned back to the food. He was chopping and preparing the vegetables for the next meal.

Kurt smiled softly at his new friend, and entered the dining room through the door he had seen Emily take earlier. He glanced around quickly, noting there was no one there, and walked into the dining hall. His eyes popped. The room was huge. The vaulted ceiling was lit with soft chandeliers, which threw the corners into darkness. The dining table looked like it could easily seat over fifty people, and Kurt saw that the dishes were located on either end of the table. So, Mr. and Mrs. Anderson didn't sit close to one another. Interesting.

Kurt gathered up the dishes, stacking them carefully so that he wouldn't drop them. As he grabbed the empty glass from one end of the table, a man walked in the room, and stood there looking at Kurt.

The man was tall, suave and debonaire-looking. Handsome, naturally; with short, wavy black hair. His piercing green eyes looked Kurt up and down, and Kurt couldn't help but see the resemblance. Surely this man was Blaine's father.

"Hello," Kurt offered, and the man's eyebrows shot up in surprise. Then he frowned, and strode to the table. He picked up a couple of papers that Kurt hadn't touched, folding them quickly and tucking them into his right front jacket pocket.

"If you want to continue working here, you'll avoid any further conversing with the occupants of this home." Mr. Anderson spoke curtly but slowly, deciding that Kurt was an idiot, and couldn't imagine why his wife would hire someone so completely useless. "In the future, you will only speak when spoken to, never offer an opinion, and do your job quickly, quietly and efficiently. Have I made myself completely understood?" Mr. Anderson cocked his eyebrow at the now crimson-faced young man. Why, this one must be a charity case, he thought to himself. The boy looked as though he hadn't eaten in months.

"Sir, I'm actually a friend of Blaine's." Kurt replied, his head hanging low as he spoke, as though trying not to anger a hungry bear. Mr. Anderson outright scowled now. He marched over to Kurt, stopping less than two feet away. Kurt had backed up from the taller man, pressing himself against the wall in an effort to avoid the back-hand he was certain was coming. Kurt flinched violently, raising his arm to cover his head as he fought down his panic.

Mr. Anderson stopped short as he watched the boy's reaction to his advance. He was simply going to inspect the boy a bit closer, perhaps shake his hand and welcome him to stay, but the young man's reaction left him stupefied. This boy has been through a lot, was the first thing Mr. Anderson thought to himself. The second thought was to wonder where all of the bruises had come from that he could see on the underside of the boy's arm as he held it in place over his head.

"ALAIN!" Mr. Anderson shouted, calling for the cook. The Frenchman dashed from the kitchen and took in the sight of Kurt cowering in the corner, and Mr. Anderson scowling before him. He quickly positioned himself between the shivering young man and his angry employer.

"Monsieur," Alain cried, holding his hands up in an appeasing manner, trying to dissuade the taller man from attacking the boy. "Please! It was my fault for sending him in here! If he broke anything, I will pay the damages! Don't hurt him!" Mr. Anderson scowled even deeper, his eyes flitting from the young boy to the chef before him, trying wildly to placate him.

"Alain, he did not break anything, and I am not angry with him. I simply wish to determine if he truly is one of Blaine's so-called friends, as he claims!" Mr. Anderson's voice gradually became louder as he finished his sentence. His wife walked in, trying to locate the source of he commotion.

"And how do you expect to find the answer by rushing up on him and making him think you're about to strike him?" Mrs. Anderson asked acerbically, walking directly over to the young man, who had now removed his arm from his head, and was peering around with haunted eyes, looking only for a way out of the mess he now found himself in.

"Hello, young man," Mrs. Anderson offered gently, taking in the sunken cheekbones, the bruises and the defensive posture. She held her hand out non-threateningly, seeing if the young man would be amenable to a handshake. After a few moments, he reached out and clasped her hand gently, shaking it once before dropping it. He had confirmed her suspicions; this boy was a fighter. He hadn't gone for a limp-wristed handshake, but had been firm and strong, even while being gentle. She spun around to her husband, nodding her head.

"He is a guest of Blaine's, you said?" As Mr. Anderson nodded, she hummed in approval. "Have you eaten yet, young man?" As the boy shook his head softly, she directed a look at Alain. "And what have _you_ been doing all morning that you couldn't sit this boy down and give him something to eat? He's skin and bones!" Alain huffed a sigh of relief; once Mrs. Anderson got her hooks into a new charity, she didn't stop until every last detail was addressed and resolved. If she had decided to take Kurt under her wing, he would never be in better hands. Alain murmured an apology, and led Kurt back into the kitchen, seating him on a barstool.

Alain whipped up another omelette for Kurt, making sure to include some ham and other fattening things in order to put a bit of meat on Kurt's bones. As he placed the plate in front of Kurt, he noticed how subdued Kurt seemed to be.

"Alain, that smells delicieux." Kurt breathed in the delicious smell, grabbing his fork and slowly cutting a small piece from the omelette. Placing it in his mouth, Kurt moaned appreciatively, causing a large grin to break out over Alain's face.

"If I had known how easy it was to make you groan like that, I would have definitely done it sooner!" Alain laughed, while Kurt flushed a deep scarlet. Alain sat and they chatted for a while, Kurt helping with the clean up once he had finished his omelette.

After a while, Kurt decided to return to his room. He was feeling a bit tired after all that food, and he was still healing, after all. He made it as far as Blaine's room, walking over to his night stand and turning on the soft music. Katy Perry's voice oozed from the speakers, singing about aliens and extra-terrestrials, and Kurt sat on the edge of the bed. He breathed deeply, smelling Blaine in every movement of the blankets. He lay back, letting his mind wander, and within minutes, Kurt was sound asleep.

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><p><strong>Sooo... what do you guys think of Blaine's family? And how about Alain? He was fun to write! I think I'll have more of him a little later on! XD Reviews make me very happy!<strong>


	4. Chapter 4

**I'm sorry I don't have anything witty to say here right now, but I'm currently fighting a migraine, and it's winning. I'll try to edit it another day and be funny and witty and stuff. **

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><p>When Blaine wandered in Kurt's room at four-thirty, he looked around for Kurt, but couldn't see him at first. Then he realised his stereo was on, and looked into his own room. Kurt was sprawled over Blaine's bed, his head pillowed on his arms as he lay on his stomach. Blaine silently slipped over to the side of the bed, looking down affectionately at the man sleeping so soundly. He ran his hand gently through Kurt's hair, effectively waking the other man up.<p>

"Hey, sleepyhead," Blaine murmured, as Kurt blinked the sleep from his eyes. He rolled over, and Blaine sat down on the bed beside him, looking down at the other man.

"Ugh… 'time iz it?" Kurt mumbled, and Blaine chuckled softly. Clearly, Kurt needed a bit of time to wake up after a good sleep.

"It's just after four thirty," Blaine assured him, laying his hand softly on Kurt's shoulder, rubbing gently.

Kurt rolled his eyes lightly, trying hard to wake up. He leaned in to Blaine's caress, rubbing his cheek against Blaine's hand like some kind of adorable puppy. Blaine sighed softly, leaning down and pressing a quick kiss to Kurt's forehead.

"So… are you hungry, by any chance?" Kurt's eyes popped open as his stomach gave a traitorous growl.

"Apparently I am," Kurt giggled, his eyes wide as he looked down, attempting to divine if there was some strange beast about to emerge from his abdomen.

"How about you get dressed and I'll take you out for dinner? I know this great little Chinese food place, and I have an in with the owners," Blaine winked as Kurt giggled softly.

"Sure, that would be great," Kurt smiled quietly, raising himself up from the bed and giving a huge yawn and a bone-popping stretch. "Oh, and I met Alain and your parents this morning," Kurt added, almost as an after thought.

"Alain, the chef?" Blaine blinked owlishly. He and Alain had been friends for a while now, as Blaine loved to eat and Alain loved to cook. But he hadn't realised Kurt would like the other man as well.

"Yup," Kurt yawned again, walking slowly to the bathroom that connected to both bedrooms. He disappeared into the bathroom, and Blaine heard the shower start. He smiled softly, and shook his head. He called out to Kurt that he would be right back, and made his way to the kitchen.

"Ahhh, Blaine! Comment ca va?" Alain greeted Blaine with his traditional kiss to each cheek, gesturing for Blaine to follow him around as he prepared dinner. "Are you and Monsieur Kurt joining us pour le souper?" He asked Blaine if they would be there for dinner.

"No, Alain. I just wanted to ask how Kurt was this morning when you saw him?" Blaine took note of the fleeting grimace that crossed Alain's face, and jumped on it. "What happened?" Alain shrugged his shoulders, gesturing carefully with his sharp paring knife.

"Nothing much, really," Alain offered, but Blaine scowled at him until he capitulated.

"Well, he did meet Monsieur and Madame Anderson." Blaine's breath hitched. He knew his father could come off as being overbearing, and with Kurt's recent past, he could definitely see Kurt being upset.

"What happened?" Blaine knew something was wrong by the face Alain pulled. He stalked after Alain as the chef strode over to the cutting board and began chopping onions.

"Ton pere, your father, he was… irrespectueux…" Blaine shook his head; his limited French didn't allow him to recognize the word. Alain huffed, his mind searching for the proper word in English."Dis… pas de respect… none…" Blaine finally caught on to what Alain was trying to say.

"Disrespectful? My father was disrespectful to Kurt?" Blaine felt his body heat up as anger began boiling in his veins. He clenched his hands at his sides, and Alain glanced over to see Blaine scowling fiercely.

"Oui. But he apologized, your pere. Ton maman, she was… furieux. Furious. She took Kurt under her arms. Comme ca," Alain demonstrated, putting down the paring knife and then placing his arms around Blaine's shoulders gently.

"I think you mean she took him under her wing," Blaine corrected, a small smile gracing his lips as he interpreted what Alain was telling him. "So Dad, he didn't… get angry, with Kurt?" Blaine asked, his anger slowly draining from his body.

"Non… non… He simply wanted to make sure Kurt was really one of tes amis… your friends. When I came into the dining room, he was… uh… vis-à-vis?" He asked, and Blaine understood. "Face to face? Why?"

Alain shrugged, and placed the knife back down on the counter. He abruptly turned and faced Blaine, placing his hands firmly on Blaine's shoulders. "Monsieur Blaine, Kurt has been maltraités in his life. Bad treatment. He needs… friends. Amis. Like you. Like me. But we must be careful. He is… ombrageux. Ready to run. Must move slowly around Kurt." Subconsciously, Blaine realized when Alain became agitated he seemed to lose quite a bit of the English he had learned since coming over from France. Blaine nodded as Alain paced across the kitchen.

"I promised Kurt I would be back quickly, Alain. I have to go. But will you keep your ears open for me and watch my parents? I know you see more of them than I do." Alain nodded his head as Blaine made for the kitchen exit. "If you hear anything, please call me!" Blaine called as he found his way out of the kitchen and back to his room.

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><p>Blaine and Kurt walked to the car after a particularly delightful meal. The chef had sat with them for part of the dinner; an older, swarthy gentleman named Ben, who took great delight in meeting Blaine's <em>"multo."<em> Once Ben had explained that the word meant "spirit", Kurt realised that Blaine really had been thinking about him for a while; ever since the day that Kurt had seen Blaine for the first time. After Ben returned to the kitchen, Kurt had been very quiet, contemplating.

Blaine slid his hand into Kurt's as they walked, his callused thumb rubbing soothing circles around the fleshy part of Kurt's palm. Kurt startled, ripping his hand away from Blaine's in shock, and Blaine frowned gently.

"Hey," Blaine murmured, as Kurt took a step back, his head shaking violently as his memories flooded through him.

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><p><em>Holding his fathers' hand.<em>

_Trying not to cry as Carole stood nearby, her sobbing loud enough to wake the dead. _

_But not his father._

_His hand gripping tightly to the one person who had always been there for him, no matter what._

_Feeling the pricking of the tears behind his eyelids._

_Feeling the hitching of his breath in his lungs._

_Feeling the weight of the world on his shoulders as he gave the signal to unplug his father._

_Knowing that to keep him here was too selfish. _

_Not caring; he'd rather be selfish if it meant he could keep his father._

_But having been convinced by Carole and Finn and the damn doctor that letting him go was the only option left._

_Knowing that after six months in a coma Burt was unlikely to ever come out of it._

_Gripping the flesh of his fathers' hand until he left nail marks._

_Hanging on to it as his father breathed his last breath._

_Then dropping it suddenly, as he realised that he would never be able to tell his father he loved him. That the last words from his lips to his father were said in pain, and desperation and wishing with every ounce of his being that he could take it back. _

_And knowing that it was impossible._

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><p>Blaine's heart raced as he watched the memories fill Kurt's eyes with tears, making his own heart break in the process. What was Kurt feeling right now? Why was he so upset? Blaine's mind sped with thoughts of worry and wonder for his boyfriend. Blaine stepped forward, reaching out carefully and placing a gentle hand on Kurt's shoulder.<p>

With a cry, Kurt came out of his reverie, the tears flowing freely down his cheeks. He threw himself at Blaine, who caught him carefully and tucked the taller man against his own body. With soft murmurs and a quiet hand, Blaine led Kurt the five feet to the car, and bundled the sobbing man into the front seat.

Blaine climbed into the drivers' side, and reached over to Kurt, simply holding him carefully for a long time.

Once Kurt's tears had slowed, not stopped completely, but slowed enough to be able to speak somewhat, Blaine pulled back, looking at the red-rimmed sparkling blue eyes that held him so captivated.

"What happened?" Blaine asked gently, smoothing Kurt's hair from his sweat-covered brow.

"I…. I dunno…" Kurt replied quietly, rubbing his eyes dry with the back of his hand. "One moment everything w-was fine, and then y-you took my hand… It was like I was transported b-back in time. To w-when m-my f-father…" Blaine took Kurt in his arms again, as the younger man burst into fresh tears. He held him again, not as long this time, and when Kurt pulled away, Blaine started the car.

"I… I'm so s-sorry, B-Blaine…" Kurt mumbled, his face red and swollen from crying, and yet still managing to look wholly embarrassed about crying all over his boyfriend.

"Oh, Kurt," Blaine looked over at the taller man, his soft smile trying to mask the pain he felt at seeing his boyfriend hurting so much. "You have _nothing_ to be sorry about. Nothing at _all_. I'm sorry I reached out and grabbed you without asking permission…" Now it was Blaine's turn to become crimson. "If I had just kept my hands to myself, you wouldn't be sitting there, breaking my heart by crying, now would you?" Kurt gave a little gasp, his crystalline blue eyes glancing shyly at the man driving beside him.

"I…. break your heart?" Kurt whispered, not daring to believe it.

"You do. When you cry so brokenly, my whole being feels it. I just want to hold you forever and tell you how much I love you…" Blaine murmured back, his face heating up again at the confession. He stole a glance at Kurt, who was now staring contemplatively out the window at the night passing by.

"I still don't understand that," Kurt said, his whole demeanour changing as he seemed to shrink in on himself. Blaine frowned.

"What do you mean, you don't understand that?" Blaine asked, his brow furrowed slightly as he wondered how Kurt would reply. Kurt was quiet for so long, Blaine thought perhaps he had forgotten the question, and was about to repeat it, when Kurt spoke.

"Why?" Kurt asked, his eyes mesmerised by nothing at all outside the window. Blaine's eyebrows furrowed further. Why_ what_?

"Why do you love _me?_ There are so many things about me that I hate; my hair, my body, my nerdiness, my nightmares. The fact that _I'm broken_." Kurt's voice cracked on the last word; if Blaine's heart hadn't been broken earlier, it surely would have been as Kurt stated those things he hated about himself. Blaine shook his head, but Kurt continued.

"I'm ugly, Blaine. My eyes are too small, and my mouth is too big. My nose is slanted funny, and my posture sucks. I'm not smart, or funny or good-looking." Blaine chanced a glance toward Kurt, who sat staring out the window at nothing, while the tears began falling down his face again.

"I'm nothing. You don't really want me, Blaine, I know you don't. You may think you do, but you'll leave me eventually. In the end, everyone does." Kurt's voice wavered, his breath hitching more often as the tears flowed, soaking his shirt, but he didn't care. Blaine shook his head, and pulled over to the side of the road. He turned the car off, and turned to look at Kurt.

With a little cry, Kurt shook his head violently, and jumped from the car. Blaine blinked in surprise as Kurt started running down the street, away from Blaine.

Blaine finally came to his senses and jumped from the car, pursuing Kurt on foot through a neighbourhood full of residential homes.

"Kurt! _Kurt!_ Please stop! _KURT!_" Blaine yelled, scaring a pair of kids as he dashed around a corner, trying to follow his boyfriend. He accidentally ran into an elderly woman, and he stopped long enough to help her back up, apologising profusely. Once she was on her way, he looked around for Kurt. His search ended in a sob, as Kurt was nowhere to be found, and there were no traces to help him find the man of his dreams.

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><p>Kurt couldn't breathe. His heart was hammering in his chest, his body about to give out as it reached the last of his strength. He was sobbing, and choking, and trying not to trip over his own feet as he fled the man whom had declared his love.<p>

He had been running for what felt like hours, but in reality, was probably closer to fifteen minutes. His head was spinning, and all he felt like doing was throwing up. The Chinese food he had eaten wasn't sitting well, and with all of the running, Kurt felt his stomach heave. He found a fairly private bush down an alleyway, and vomited up the contents of his stomach.

Once purged, he lay quietly on his side, eyes closed, wishing that he had somewhere safe to go. Somewhere to hide. Somewhere to recuperate.

Because Blaine didn't really love him. He couldn't.

Kurt was _broken_.

He held his stomach tightly, praying for the nausea to subside. He heard a soft footfall close to him, and a gentle hand lay on his leg. He startled, but couldn't gather enough energy to open his eyes, or throw off the hand, which was now rubbing small circles on his leg.

"C'mon, dude." The tenor voice was soothing, calming, with a hint of an accent. Kurt felt himself being pulled upward, a strong pair of arms lifting him up in a fireman's carry.

Kurt's eyes stayed melded shut, as he feigned unconsciousness.

Whatever this guy wanted, maybe he'd let Kurt stay with him for the night. Kurt would be fine in the morning, when the sun was up and he could think about things more clearly.

The arms dragged him to a house, he assumed, as they climbed a few steps and a door opened.

"Hey, Hun?" A female voice called from an adjacent room. "I thought you were going out for a run?" Kurt felt the soft chuckle of the man beside him, as he answered the woman's question.

"I was, Mum, but I ran into an old friend, and we're gonna hang out in my room. That okay?" Kurt nearly gave away his wakefulness to his benefactor. _Old friend_? Just who did he think he was kidding here? Kurt didn't have that many old friends. Or new ones, for that matter. So just who had he run into?

"Fine by me, luv, but make sure you're quiet. Stacey's asleep." Kurt felt the mysterious man's arms tighten around him, and he was hauled upstairs.

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><p>Blaine was frantic. Kurt didn't have a cell phone, and likely didn't know this part of town. All Blaine could envision was Kurt lying under a bush somewhere, crying his heart out, his sobs enough to attract any type of predator.<p>

Blaine drove his car around for hours, his eyes constantly peeled for the slender man he loved. When he finally got too tired to continue on his own, he called Finn. They had exchanged numbers back at the hospital, since Finn knew Kurt would be spending copious amounts of time with Blaine.

He drove carefully to Finn's house, parking haphazardly on the street. He clambered from the drivers' seat, weaving his way up the walk to the front door, and ringing the doorbell.

The door opened almost immediately, and Blaine pitched forward, exhausted.

"Woah!" Finn's arms jumped up and caught Blaine as the shorter man passed out right there on the front steps.

In seconds Carole was right there beside the two men, her fingers finding the pulse on Blaine's wrist.

"His pulse is erratic, Finn. Bring him in and set him on the couch." Finn picked Blaine up, bridal style, and carried him over, settling him carefully on the couch as Carole went into the kitchen. She returned carrying a small bottle, which she waved delicately under Blaine's nose.

With a cough and a stutter, Blaine's eyes opened, the pupils rolling a little before focusing on Carole's worried face.

"Wha…. What happened?" Blaine mumbled, his hand reaching up to slide through his unruly curls.

"You fainted, dude," Finn supplied helpfully, his large brown eyes watching Blaine warily. "I caught you!" He added proudly. Carole rolled her eyes at her son in thinly veiled amusement.

"Yes you did. Good boy, Finn," She patted him gently on the forearm before turning her attention back to Blaine. "How do you feel, Blaine?" Her concerned eyes swept over the bags under his eyes, the sallow tone of his skin, the drooping of the corners of his mouth. Blaine looked truly unhappy.

"Kurt…" Blaine's eyes welled with huge tears, and Carole grabbed a box of tissues that she usually reserved for movie night. Handing them over, she asked softly, "What happened?"

"He's…. he's gone." Blaine's voice broke with the last word, and his soft sobbing caused Carole to sit on the edge of the couch and pull the young man to her. She enveloped him in a tight hug, rubbing soothing circles into the small of his back.

"Shhhh…. It'll be all right, sweetheart," she murmured, as he hugged her closer, finding comfort in her motherly demeanour. Finn was looking somewhat uncomfortable, so he headed into the kitchen. Food always made him feel better, so he figured it would work for Blaine too. He set about making Blaine an amazing Dagwood sandwich.

Blaine's heart rate finally slowed down, and his exhaustion took over, sending him into a deep, dreamless sleep.

Carole laid him down on the couch, covering him with a soft blanket just as Finn re-entered the room with a 6-inch high sandwich, comprised of most of the leftovers in the refrigerator, a number of condiments, a few fresh vegetables, and a surprising amount of pickles. He stared as his mother kissed the brow of the now-sleeping man, and flicked the light off in the living room.

He smiled and winked at his mom as she took in the size of the sandwich and laughed softly, trying not to wake the man in the other room.

"Ah well," Finn murmured sheepishly, as his mother raised an eyebrow. "More for me!"

And with that, he took a huge bite of the sandwich in front of him.

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><p><strong>Uh, please don't kill me! *<em>Runs and hides in a very dark corner to escape the ravaging hordes... and the migraine... XD*<em>**


	5. Chapter 5

**Well, I guess after the last chapter, I would be nice enough to post this fairly quickly! After all, it's not nice to keep your friends hanging! We get to meet Kurt's mysterious stranger, although one of you actually managed to figure out who it was! Yay to Windrider1967 who correctly identified the character! **

**I guess not too many of you are still reading this... I got a grand total of three reviews for last chapter. Ah well. I'm not writing this for the reviews, although that is a nice added perk when I do get them. I just really like knowing that you guys are interested in this story, and actually like it! Do you? You can tell me through Tumblr, Twitter or here. Potikanda is my name for everything. **

**Without any further ado, here is chapter 5. **

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><p>Kurt cracked his eyes open just a touch, when he deemed it safe to do so. His mysterious benefactor had placed him gently on the bed in the room, and his heart began racing furiously. What did this person want with him? He was beginning to regret not putting up a struggle.<p>

His eyes finally found their focus in the somewhat darkened room, and they raked over the stooped figure who had his back turned to Kurt at the moment. He seemed to be fiddling with something in his dresser, and that made Kurt very nervous indeed. To take his mind off his troubles, he looked around the rest of the room.

There were posters up on the walls, mostly of football players, a couple of pin ups; girls, so maybe Kurt didn't have to worry about _that. _The bed covers were a deep shade of green, as was the shade of the lamp beside the bed, which the other man walked over to and turned on. Kurt could see his profile, and nearly jumped out of his skin at the sight.

"You!"

Kurt bounced up off the bed, throwing his arms around the neck of the last person on earth he had ever expected to see.

Sam Freakin' Evans.

Sam chuckled, slightly embarrassed, as Kurt pulled back after a three minute long hug. Kurt opened his mouth to speak, but no words came out. Instead, much to his dismay, his eyes began filling with tears. Again.

"Oh. No, hey… it's okay. Kurt, I'm not going to hurt you. Remember? We were in Glee together?" The worried look on Sam's face made Kurt cry even harder. Sam pulled his friend in for another hug, and guided him over to the bed. They sat down together, Kurt crying softly and Sam rubbing his back in small circles.

As Kurt calmed back down, they heard a soft footstep from outside the bedroom door, and a tentative knock announced a presence. When Sam opened the door, they saw a young girl, maybe twelve, rubbing her eyes and yawning.

"Oh crap. I'm sorry, Stace," Sam apologised, but she took in the situation and walked over to Kurt, ignoring her brother completely.

"Who are you?" She asked, her hands on her hips. Kurt had never been scared of kids before, but this little girl looked to be about the most frightening thing he had ever encountered, and that included sleeping in an old theatre with ghosts, and bats, and mice running around.

"Uh… Kurt." He managed to say, his face turning crimson as she studied him carefully.

"Boys don't cry." She stated, matter-of-factly. Her eyebrow rose in an excellent imitation of his "Bitch, Please" look, and he was suitably impressed.

"Well… uh," Kurt struggled to stick up for himself against this whip-thin girl, who made him feel about two inches tall. "See, I just… my boyfriend… he…" And to his complete mortification, he began crying again.

Stacey looked at the crying man in front of her, and reached her arms out. She wrapped Kurt in a huge hug, and sat down beside him. Sam took up a position on his other side, wrapping his arm around Kurt's waist.

"It's okay to cry, you know," Stacey said in a commanding tone of voice. She glared at her big brother as if to say 'I told you so'. "Crying is very cathartic, and it's a great way to wind up relaxed. Don't be surprised if you sleep like a baby after this." Kurt let out a watery chuckle, causing both Sam and Stacey to smile a bit.

"A-And where did you learn t-that?" Kurt asked, hugging the smaller girl tightly to him. She shrugged gently, leaning into the embrace.

"I'm going to be a social worker when I get older. It helps to know this stuff _now_. And I like helping people. I'm really good at it too!" She added, and Kurt chuckled again at her lack of humility.

"So, Kurt. You gonna tell us what happened?" Sam asked quietly, his fingers gently massaging the tense muscles of Kurt's lower back in an attempt to relax him a bit further. His fingers stopped as Kurt tensed up again.

Kurt sighed softly, his heart pounding, as he recalled the events of today.

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><p>The following morning, Blaine awoke to a distinct rattle coming from the kitchen, and an amazing smell. As he opened his eyes and stretched, Finn's voice called him from the kitchen.<p>

"Yo, dude! Get your butt outta bed or I'm gonna eat all this myself!" Blaine smiled tiredly to himself, flipped off the covers that Carole had placed on him, and wandered into the kitchen, to find Finn standing there, cooking eggs, toast, bacon and home fries. When Finn pulled a huge plate from the oven, filled with more breakfast, Blaine chuckled softly. The man ate like there was no tomorrow.

"Wow, Finn. You didn't have to make all this for me," Blaine amusedly noted the look of panic that flitted over Finn's face as he glanced at the two heaping plates of food.

"Oh… uh… Okay, you can have them, I'll just make some more…" Blaine laughed outright at the expression on Finn's face, and stopped him from pulling another carton of eggs from the fridge.

"I was kidding, Finn. There's enough here to feed an army." Blaine took his plate, noting the huge grin that took over Finn's face, and walked to the table to begin eating. "So, where's Carole?"

"Mom had to go to work. Oh, and speaking of army, we have a small one who are all coming over at ten, so eat quickly." Finn shovelled a slice of toast in his mouth to prove his point, and Blaine was brought back to the reason he had slept on Finn's couch.

Kurt.

They had to find Kurt. He was sure that with Finn's help, and the help of his "army", they would be able to find Kurt fairly quickly. After all, Lima wasn't really the biggest town in Ohio.

* * *

><p>Kurt awoke to the sound of birdsong. It was one of the most pleasant sounds he had ever woken up to, and he stretched carefully before opening his eyes. It took him a few moments to remember where he was, and then he sat up in the bed, leaning over to find a pile of discarded blankets on the floor beside the bed.<p>

Sam had been so kind last night, especially after Stacey had returned to bed. He had run to the nearest store for a new toothbrush and a couple of snacks for Kurt, and they had stayed up very late, just talking.

Kurt had almost demanded to sleep on the floor, but Sam had talked him into staying in the bed. As Sam had piled the blankets on the floor for himself, he had caught Kurt up on everything that had happened during the last couple of years.

He'd explained that although his dad had moved to a job in Minnesota in summer of their junior year, he had gotten another job back here the middle of the following year, and so they had moved back. That had been after Kurt had disappeared, and Sam had been very upset to know that Kurt hadn't been around any longer.

"See, I figured something out when I was in Minnesota, Kurt." Kurt's eyebrows lifted in query. "I'm attracted to guys and girls. It's weird, but thanks to knowing you, it didn't bother me. Like, at all. I mean…" And at that point in the conversation, Sam's ears had begun turning a deep red, and he had grown suspiciously quiet all of a sudden.

"What?" Kurt had asked, wondering what Sam had been about to say.

"I knew it was okay to like guys, because… well….youweremyfirstguycrush." Sam said it quickly, hoping Kurt either didn't really hear it, or wouldn't make a big deal out of it.

"Wait, what?" Kurt's voice rose an octave, and Sam knew he was in for it. He shook his head softly, blond hair whipping around as he looked everywhere in the room but at the guy he was talking to. Kurt lowered his voice again, not wanting to wake Stacey.

"You…. You had a crush? On _ME_?" Kurt's incredulous tones forced Sam to look back at him, eyes wide, as he took in the amazement on Kurt's face.

"Why does that surprise you, Kurt? You were the first openly gay guy I had ever met. You're strong, you're beautiful, you are so much more than you seem to think you are, you know?" Kurt shook his head, denying everything Sam was telling him. _Beautiful? No way. Strong? Not even close,_ was all Kurt could think to himself. But Sam continued on, ignoring the pain that flitted across Kurt's face.

"I knew that liking guys was okay, that nothing was wrong with me, because you liked guys, and there was certainly nothing wrong with _you_. I… well, I actually found myself a boyfriend when I was in Minnesota." Kurt smiled softly at Sam, who turned yet another shade of crimson.

"He wasn't perfect. But, neither was I. We both figured things out as we went. We never really got beyond the make-out stage, because neither one of us was ready for that, but he was good to me. And I like to think I was good to him, too." Sam had passed an embarrassed hand through his blond hair, and they had laid down, Kurt on the bed and Sam on the floor, and continued talking through most of the night.

Now it was morning, and in addition to the birdsong outside, Kurt heard the distinct sounds of Sam in the shower. The running water did nothing to mask the dulcet tones that rang out through the house. As he lay there, simply listening to Sam sing, the door opened, and he sat up quickly, pulling the blankets up to his chin.

"Oh! Well, hello," An older woman entered the room, presumably Sam's mother. "I'm Sarah! Sam's mom. I just wanted to let you know that breakfast is on the table, you'd better hurry before it gets cold!" Picking up the blankets on the floor, she gracefully walked out. Kurt noticed her posture was perfect. He called out a belated thank you, and scrambled to get out of the bed.

As he walked down the hallway, Sam stepped out of the bathroom, wearing nothing but a towel and a grin.

"Hey, sleepyhead!" Sam reached out and ruffled Kurt's hair, causing the shorter man to scowl softly. "Whoops, forgot about that! Sorry…" Sam added sheepishly, grabbing the towel that was now threatening to fall to the floor. "I'll see you downstairs, okay?" Kurt nodded, not trusting himself to speak just yet, and they separated.

Kurt followed his nose to the kitchen, where Mrs. Evans was removing a large platter of French Toast from the oven, and placing it on the table.

Sam wandered in a few minutes later, and they sat in silence until Sam's cell phone went off with a new text message. He wiped his hands off on the napkin before opening his phone, and his eyes widened in surprise as he read the text. He glanced surreptitiously over at Kurt, and sent a text message back before stowing the cell phone back in his pants pocket.

"So, Kurt… do you feel like going out today? I have something I have to do for a friend, and wanted to know if you want to come along?" Sam tried to maintain a careful façade of neutrality, but Kurt could see whatever had been in the text had excited him greatly. Ah well. He'd be helping a friend out. Why not?

* * *

><p>Sam pulled up in front of Finn's house, and Kurt couldn't believe his eyes. There were no less than fifteen cars parked around the street, and standing around, looking right at him, were no less than twenty people that he hadn't seen since high school. He looked over at Sam, who grinned back at him.<p>

"Welcome home, Kurt," Sam murmured gently, then bounced out of the truck, and ran over to Kurt's side to open the door for him.

Everyone was there. His entire glee club. And a few people he had never met before. Mercedes, Rachel, Tina, Quinn, Brittany, Santana, Mike, Puck, Artie, Finn, and Mr. Shue. There was a small girl who introduced herself as Sugar. And a boy with an amazing Irish accent who called himself Rory. Ms. Pillsbury was there, and so was Sue Sylvester.

"She managed to find out you were missing and said she missed taunting her Porcelain," Mercedes whispered in his ear, as she hugged her boo tightly. His eyes overflowed with tears as he looked around at all of the happy faces around him. He wasn't too sure _what _he was feeling at the moment, but in one second none of that mattered.

Kurt's breath hitched in his lungs as he took in the bedraggled sight of his boyfriend. Blaine looked as though he had been crying all night, and Kurt knew it had been because of him. He couldn't stop the tears now, as Blaine rushed to stand in front of him. The entire crowd had gone silent.

"Kurt?" Blaine's rough voice cracked on the question, his own eyes filling with tears as he stood there, waiting for Kurt to _say something_.

"I'm… I'm sorry, Blaine…" Kurt's voice was so small, Blaine barely heard it. He tucked his fingers under Kurt's lowered chin, raising his face so Kurt could look him in the eyes.

"No." Blaine whispered. Kurt's breath hitched, and he braced for the blow he knew was coming. Blaine was going to break up with him, right here, in front of all these people. Well, it was no less than what he deserved. Kurt closed his eyes as he waited for the hammer to fall.

Blaine stopped at the flinch that made Kurt's entire body shiver. As Kurt closed his eyes, everything Blaine was going to say flew out the window. He stepped forward, wrapped his arms around Kurt, and gently kissed his lips.

Kurt's eyes flew open in surprise. This was _not_ what he had expected when Blaine had been standing before him. The softness of Blaine's lips, the comfort of his arms around him, the heat of their bodies pressed together; all of these sensations combined caused Kurt's pleasure center in his brain to melt, and he sighed softly, leaning into the kiss, and returning it passionately.

As they pulled away from each other, they heard a soft cough from one of the guys, and Tina piped up:

"Holy _Hell_, that was _hot!_" The crowd around them began giggling, and they both turned several shades of red.

"Okay guys, since we're here, and so are all of you, I say we have a reunion party!" Finn called out, receiving a cheer and they all made their way out to the back yard. Puck and Finn made a quick trip to the grocery store, while Mr. Shue and Artie fought over the best way to light the barbeque.

Kurt found himself the center of the attention, something he hadn't had ever, and was amazed by how good it felt to be talking to his old friends again. He was even glad **to** talk to Sue again, who kept trying to get him to return to school so she could have him back on her cheerleading team.

"See, Porcelain, the way I figure it, you haven't graduated yet. That makes you a dropout. It's only been two years since you left. You can come back and finish your last year, and be Captain of the Cheerios!" Sue announced proudly, as a few people around her groaned, namely Quinn, Santana, and Brittany.

"Seriously, Ms. Sylvester. Give it up. No one wants to be on the Cheerios anymore because you're mentally unstable." Quinn commented with a flip of her hair. Santana and Brittany giggled, and even Kurt smiled a little, behind his hand, of course. No sense giving Sue a reason to hate him.

"I'm sorry, Sue. But I haven't been strong enough to be on the Cheerios for a while now. All skin and bones, you know?" Kurt wrapped his fingers around his wrist, emphasizing how small he was. Sue looked thoughtful for a second. Then she perked right up.

"I know the perfect diet for you!" Kurt groaned and Santana began bitching at Sue. As the two fought, Kurt made his getaway.

"Hey, boo," Mercedes walked up beside Kurt, lightly clasping his hand in hers. She had been brought up-to-date with what Kurt had been through, and she knew to go slowly with the young man. Kurt leaned over and hugged his once best friend.

"Hey, Mercedes. So, how have you been the last couple of years?" Kurt was anxious to know if Mercedes had gotten out of Lima yet.

"I've been good, I suppose. I got a boyfriend in the last year of high school. We broke up after I split with the New Directions, and went to be part of the TroubleTones." Kurt's eyes widened; there was so much he had to catch up on. They made plans to get together later on in the week, to catch up, and then Mercedes moved on to chat with Tina.

Kurt found himself standing in a quiet corner, watching the people around him chatting and reminiscing, catching up with each others' lives. He felt a strong hand touch his arm, and he looked into the most beautiful hazel eyes he had ever seen.

"_I_ am the one who should be sorry, Kurt." Blaine murmured, moving close to Kurt but not touching him except for the hand on his arm. Kurt made to reply that this was nonsense, but Blaine placed a gentle finger over his lips, keeping him silent.

"I keep moving too fast. I love you, so much, but I have to remember that you've been alone for _so_ long, that you aren't used to anyone being there for you. You've had to be your own caretaker, in a time when you were hurting the most, and I can't ever know what that feels like. But I'm willing to help you learn how to trust other people again…. If you'll let me?" Blaine looked down, biting his lip as he waited for Kurt's response.

Kurt wasn't sure what to think. Here was Blaine, pouring his heart out to Kurt, begging _his_ forgiveness when in reality, it was Kurt who should be begging. Kurt shook his head, trying to clear out the cobwebs, but he didn't miss the look of pure panic in Blaine's eyes as he turned away from Kurt.

"No, _wait_!" Kurt grabbed Blaine's arm, pulling him back to his side. "I… I do want you beside me, Blaine." Now it was Kurt's turn to carefully place his fingers on Blaine's chin, lifting his face to stare into his eyes. "I'm…. I'm not strong, Blaine. I have doubts… _so_ many doubts… About myself, about my world. But there is one thing I have no doubts about at all. Can you guess what that is?" Kurt directed a soft smile at Blaine, whose breath hitched in his chest as he watched the light play in Kurt's beautiful blue-green eyes.

"Me?" Blaine asked quietly, studying his boyfriends' face intently. Kurt nodded, his grin filling his face and he leaned in and kissed Blaine slowly, softly sucking on Blaine's lower lip before running his tongue over it. He slid his tongue up to the cleft between Blaine's lips, seeking entrance, and his boyfriend parted his lips with a deep sigh.

They kissed quietly for a while, until a deep cough beside them brought them back to their senses. They looked for the source of the cough, and found the entire party staring at them again. Grinning sheepishly, Kurt turned and buried his head in Blaine's shoulder, as Puck laughed beside them and clapped Blaine on the shoulder.

"If you can turn our little Kurtie here into a quivering mess with just a kiss like that, Anderson, I guess that makes you okay in my book!" And with that, he sauntered off to rejoin the party.

Blaine and Kurt looked at each other and laughed softly, and returned to the party too.

* * *

><p><strong>So please, let me know if I'm doing okay with this fic? If not, I'll just ignore this one and work on Our Love Is Here To Stay. I should be working on that one anyway; I started it first... Give me a heads up!<strong>


	6. Chapter 6

**Hello everyone! So here is a bit of fluff after the angst that we've seen over the past few chapters. Introducing a new character, and a bit of resolution for Blaine. Hope that's enough of a teaser to make you want to read it! XD**

**As always, I own nothing but what's in my head. (So, not much!)**

* * *

><p>The week after Finn's impromptu party, Kurt found himself walking arm in arm with Mercedes through Lima's largest mall. They had been window-shopping now for almost an hour, checking out the amazing pre-Christmas sales through all of the shop windows. Mercedes squealed as she saw the most gorgeous sweater in Forever 21, and made to pull Kurt into the store.<p>

"Uh, 'Cedes?" Kurt wasn't sure he wanted to go into the store. He knew if he went in he would be tempted to try and buy something, but as he didn't have a job yet, and very little money, he wanted to save what he had for Christmas presents for her, Blaine, Finn and Carole. "I'm not sure I should be going in there, honestly," he admitted, his blush creeping up his face. Mercedes quirked her eyebrow at him, and he coloured even further.

"I… well, see I don't have much money, and if I go in I'll be tempted to buy stuff…" Mercedes grabbed his hand and pulled him in anyway, protesting the whole way.

"Boo, I love you, but if I don't get that sweater, I _will_ make you pay," Mercedes threatened, and Kurt quieted. He stood around, looking at everything, as Mercedes cooed over the softness of the sweater, and gushed over the dark-washed jeans the store had paired them with.

As they stood there, debating on which design for Mercedes to get, they heard a loud conversation going on in the back of the store.

"I don't _care_ if it's right before Christmas! I never liked this job anyway! I hate it here, and I hate you! You can't fire me; I _quit_!" And a young Asian girl, no more than eighteen, dashed from the back room, followed by a burly security guard. He caught her in record time, before she even made her way to the front of the store, and Kurt and Mercedes backed up quickly to avoid being trampled as the guard led the young woman away.

They exchanged a quiet glance, wondering if they should leave the store. At that moment a woman in her mid twenties stepped up beside them. Her ID tag said Melody, and it identified her as the manager of the store.

"I am so sorry that you both had to witness that," Melody apologised, her bright smile belying the fact that the rest of her face was tense with restrained emotion. Kurt stole a glance at Mercedes again, who had wandered off to look at socks. He smiled softly after her, then turned back to the woman standing beside him.

"Thanks, but it's all right." Kurt noted the tense stance that shifted quietly under the professional exterior. "Do you want to talk about it?" He asked quietly, his eyes never leaving the woman's face as she started, her surprise written plainly over her features. She took a deep breath, her eyes automatically sweeping the store. Kurt and Mercedes were the only customers at the moment, so she nodded softly and led him back to where the cash registers were located.

"I caught Angel stealing." Melody's features tightened again, her diamond blue eyes hardening as she remembered the reason for Angel's outburst. "It's the worst possible timing, too." Her shoulders slumped with defeat, the breath leaving her body in one huge burst of air. "It's only three weeks until Christmas, and she was the only full timer, other than me. She's been here a total of three years. I can't understand why she pulled something like this." To Kurt's distress, she was starting to tear up, and he reached out to hug the slightly smaller woman.

"I'm sorry," Kurt murmured, as Melody sniffed indelicately. Kurt inwardly shuddered. He could have done without _that_ sound.

"Hey," Melody pulled away, her hands on her hips severely. "I'll have you know I have a boyfriend, mister," Kurt giggled softly as Melody smiled back, her watery eyes clearing just the tiniest bit.

As Kurt pulled back, he offered her a rare Kurt Hummel grin. "Hey, if it will help you out, I can cover for her until you are able to hire another full timer. What do you think?" Melody's eyes washed over him, taking in the boy's definite fashion sense, his impeccable hair, and his youthful good looks. Now, if only he knew what to do with a cash register… She led him to the register, asking if he had ever used one of these before.

Kurt coloured, as he remembered the very old cash register that had been left behind at the abandoned theatre. He had played around with it for a while, accidentally breaking it open, and had found a small stash of leftover money there. He nodded quickly, deciding his potential new boss didn't need to know he'd broken the only other cash register he'd ever operated.

Melody's heart soared. She had managed to find a new employee even faster than she had expected. She would be able to spend Christmas with her children after all.

Mercedes finally made her way to the register, carrying seven shirts, her sweater, and three pairs of jeans, along with numerous pairs of adorable, coloured ankle socks. She piled them all on the counter, blissfully unaware of what had transpired between Kurt and Melody while she shopped.

"Is that all you're getting?" Kurt asked acerbically, his eyebrow raised in sarcastic query. Mercedes blushed softly, a huge smile blooming across her face. "For now," she replied mysteriously, arching her own eyebrow back at him. For a quick moment, Melody simply watched the battle of the quirked eyebrows, before the pair of them burst out laughing and Kurt rang up Mercedes' purchases.

Melody was quite impressed by Kurt's cashier skills, and she asked him to come in early the next morning for some training. Promising to be there, Kurt bagged up Mercedes' things, grabbed her hand and they walked out of the store. Melody watched them go with a glad heart. Her instincts had told her to go and talk to the young man with the sad eyes, and they had been right, as always. He was the one she had been looking for. She was quite certain she wouldn't have to replace him, but she would put up the appearance of interviewing a few people.

Yes, Kurt Hummel would fit in quite nicely here, she couldn't help but think to herself as she retired to the back room to grab some extra merchandise to put out front.

* * *

><p>Kurt had just arrived back at Blaine's house, after Mercedes had dropped him off. He had just said goodbye when a thought occurred to him: How in hell was he supposed to get back to the mall for tomorrow morning? He had promised Melody that he would be there for seven, but Blaine didn't even get up until eight, and he didn't know what time the buses ran.<p>

Kurt made his way to his bedroom, slipping in through the adjoining doors to Blaine's room, and finding his way to the desk. He opened the laptop, and booted it up, opening the Lima Transit home page. He was trying to figure out the schedules when a rap on the bedroom door interrupted his thoughts. Without thinking, he rose and opened the door.

Before him stood Mr. Anderson, his hand raised to knock again. As he and Kurt stared at one another, his hand slowly lowered, sliding into his pants pocket. Mr. Anderson cleared his throat and began speaking.

"Uhm… Is Blaine home yet?" he asked, his eyes darting around Kurt, looking for signs of his son.

"Uh, no… not yet," Kurt replied warily, backing up to allow Mr. Anderson to see the entirety of the room, and making his way back to the laptop. Mr. Anderson followed silently, his shoes making no noise whatsoever on the plush carpeting of Blaine's room.

"What are you doing?" Mr. Anderson nosily peeked over Kurt's shoulder, taking in the transit schedules as Kurt kept trying to decipher them.

"I got a job at the mall, and I have to figure out the bus schedules. I have to be there for seven tomorrow morning," Kurt explained, his voice taking on the tone of someone talking to a small child who is being irritatingly annoying. Mr. Anderson stepped back, rubbing his hand on the back of his neck.

"And as I no longer have a car, I have to figure out how to get to work by bus. So if you please?" Kurt gestured to the door, turning his back on the now distinctly uncomfortable man.

"Why don't you just use one of the cars?" Mr. Anderson blurted out, his hands still deep in his pockets as he looked around the room tensely. Kurt slowly turned to face him, his eyebrows raised so high he worried they might get lost in his hairline.

"What do you mean?" Kurt whispered softly. Blaine had, at one point, taken Kurt into the garage to show off his father's impressive line up of cars, but never in his wildest dreams had he ever thought he would get to drive one. Mr. Anderson huffed softly, turning back to face Kurt.

"Well, there's a whole garage full of cars out there, and I certainly don't have time to drive them. Blaine's happy with his little mustang, and never drives anything else. Pick a car and use it. If that's what you need. You do still have a licence, correct?" Kurt pulled the little card from his wallet, looking at the expiration date.

"Yes, this is good until twenty thirteen." Kurt couldn't believe it. Was his boyfriend's father _really_ asking him to go pick out one of the amazing, gorgeous cars in the garage?

"Well. That settles it then," Mr. Anderson replied with a quick smile. Kurt had to look twice as the man's smile dazzled him. Now he knew where Blaine's dazzling smile came from. When Mr. Anderson genuinely smiled, it was like looking at a much older version of Blaine. "Come with me," Mr. Anderson beckoned, and Kurt jumped to his feet quickly.

Together they made their way outside, and across the pavement to the garage. Mr. Anderson held the door for Kurt, and turned on the overhead lights. Kurt blinked multiple times as his eyes tried to get used to the bright neon white of the florescent bulbs. He breathed in a sigh, relaxing in the familiar scent of motor oil and gasoline. His eyes wandered over the cars, his smile becoming brighter and brighter as he saw the vehicles he had to choose from. Mr. Anderson simply stood back and allowed the young boy to wander.

"Is that a Ferrari Enzo?" Kurt asked, looking over the cherry red machinery. Mr. Anderson nodded, his eyes lighting up on his favourite car.

"Yep," He replied, his voice relaxed and yet extremely excited. Kurt knew cars? This was an exciting development. He'd never been able to bond with Blaine about cars. Blaine really couldn't give a damn. But Kurt… Well, Mr. Anderson would just make sure Kurt knew he could talk shop with him about anything.

"She's right off the showroom floor. She's got all of the Formula One technology that she's supposed to. I haven't even taken her out for a spin yet. No time," He shrugged gently, colour slipping up his neck to settle in his face, much the same way Blaine's did when he was embarrassed.

"Well, you have time now," Kurt murmured softly, before realising that he had spoken out loud. He clapped his hand over his mouth, his blue-green eyes going wide with panic. "I-I m-mean," Kurt stuttered. Mr. Anderson laughed softly, clapping Kurt on the back firmly. He didn't notice the wince that shuddered through Kurt as the firm hand made contact, nor did he see the grimace that Kurt pulled before twisting his face into a neutral smile.

"Quite right, my boy. Quite right! What say you and I take it out together? Huh?" Kurt's eyes became huge as he stared at his boyfriend's father. He was being offered a ride in a million-dollar car, and Mr. Anderson thought he was going to turn it down? What, was he _crazy_?

"I'd… I'd like that, Mr. Anderson," Kurt mumbled, shock coursing through his veins, a smile playing across his lips. Mr. Anderson recoiled slightly; it was the first time Kurt had ever smiled in his presence, and he could now see what Blaine saw in the beautiful young man. He was so closed off, from everything, but as soon as he smiled, it was like the sun peeked out from behind a cloud. Mr. Anderson blinked, a shock of affection running through his mind, as he smiled back.

"Call me Jeff, kid," Mr. Anderson reached out, clapping the boy once more, slightly less forcefully this time, and together they climbed into the car.

* * *

><p>When Blaine returned home, Alain was in a panic. His hands fluttered in the air as he tried explaining half in English, half in French, about going to get Kurt to come and bake with him, finding him heading out to the garage with Mr. Anderson, and getting in a death trap and driving away. Blaine took a moment to separate the facts in his head, and determined Kurt to have gone somewhere with his father.<p>

"Alain, you have to calm down," Blaine soothed, trying to get the Frenchman to relax enough to tell him which way they had gone. As Alain began to explain again, they both heard the distinct roar of a well-maintained vehicle. Kurt and Mr. Anderson had returned.

Both men dashed from the front doors, and both stopped quickly when they realised Kurt was actually _laughing_. Not to mention, he was delicately stepping from the drivers seat of the Ferrari Enzo Blaine's father had bought a few months ago. Blaine couldn't help but smile at Kurt, whose musical laughter rang in his ears. Blaine's father emerged from the passenger seat, also laughing, and he bounced around the car to clap Kurt once more on the shoulder. For the first time, Kurt was expecting it, and didn't flinch at Jeff's hand on his shoulder.

Alain murmured something in French about crazy Americans, turned on his heel and made his way back into the kitchen furiously. Blaine stepped forward, rocking on his heels a bit as he watched the interaction between his father and Kurt. They seemed so happy together. He couldn't help but have an envious feeling twisting through his gut. His father had _never_ looked at _him_ that way.

"Hey," he breathed, his hands automatically reaching out to capture one of Kurt's. Kurt deftly pulled his hand away before Blaine could catch it, a sparkle in his eyes as he recounted what had happened.

"Hey there yourself, mister." Kurt leaned forward and pecked Blaine on the side of the mouth, keeping his hands at a safe distance from Blaine's clothing. "Please excuse me not wanting to touch you right this second, but I've been under the hood of this car and I'm not exactly neat at the moment." He showed Blaine his motor oil covered hands sheepishly, then waved goodbye to the Anderson men and bounced his way back up to the house, presumably to get clean.

"So," Blaine began, not sure how to start a conversation with his father about the boy he loved. "Cars, huh?" Mr. Anderson looked over at his son, who had a slightly sick look to his smile. His own smile faded, and he registered the hurt in Blaine's eyes. Now, contrary to most popular belief, Jeff Anderson wasn't really a bad guy. He loved his family, he loved his cars, and, while he didn't love his work, he was good at it, and it paid the bills. He wasn't completely obtuse, and knew that something was bothering his son.

"Yeah," Jeff replied, his eyes roaming over his son's face as he grimaced slightly. "Cars." He sighed softly and looked at his Enzo, his hands running delicately over the carbon-fiber body. He stopped caressing his car when he noticed his son's face watching him.

"Blaine, you know I love you, right?" Blaine started, his head whipping around to look at his dad in fear.

"Are… Are you dying, Dad?" Blaine's voice cracked, and Jeff was heart broken that a simple act of saying he loved his son would get such a reaction from him. He reached forward and pulled his son into a fierce hug.

"No, Blaine. I'm not going anywhere. I just… I haven't said it in a while, and I think maybe you needed to hear it. As much as I needed to say it." Blaine hugged his father tightly; this was something his father had refused to do since he had come out to him, almost five years earlier. Although, now that Blaine thought about it, he hadn't really been very touchy-feely with Blaine before then, either.

They parted, both slightly embarrassed by their open display of affection. Blaine crossed his arms protectively in front of himself.

"So," Blaine began, not sure if he should ask the question, but feeling the need since they were sharing a "moment". "What happened that you and Kurt are now suddenly best friends?" Blaine blinked at the hostility he was giving off, not even realising until the words had left his mouth that he was kind of being an ass to his father. He uncrossed his arms, and tried to give his father the benefit of the doubt.

"The kid is good," Jeff replied gently, his hands sliding through the thinning hair on the top of his head. "With cars, I mean." He gestured to the Enzo, once again sliding his hand across the hood. "She stopped, just outside of town. Gave a loud clunking noise and shuddered to a standstill in the middle of the road. Between us we managed to push her to the side, and I was getting ready to call a tow truck. But Kurt noticed that I had the spare set of tools in the back." Blaine nodded. His father had always been like that; he kept spare tools in the back of every single car he owned, in case something broke down while he was out. Blaine remembered that they had outfitted this car a couple of days after they had brought it home.

"Well, Kurt, he up and pulls out the tools, lifts the lid, and proceeds to fix this baby up, nice as you please. I have to commend his father for teaching the boy well. Most kids his age; hell, most _adults_ wouldn't have tried fixing a car this expensive without help. I knew _I_ couldn't. But Kurt had every confidence in the world while he worked, asking me to hand him this or that tool. And after no more than half an hour, he had her purring like a kitten. He's," Jeff stopped, his face colouring as he realised what he had been about to say. _He's the son I always wanted,_ Blaine's mind not-so helpfully supplied, and he shook his head regretfully.

"I know I was never what you wanted in a son," Blaine whispered, his voice breaking as his tears threatened to fall. "I never had the interest in cars, or football, or being a lawyer. I always wanted excitement, adventure, in far off places. I'm sorry that I wasn't what you wanted me to be." Blaine turned slowly, beginning to make his way back to the house when a rough arm wrapped around his shoulder and pulled him close.

"Hey." His father's voice was rough with emotion, as Blaine's tears continued to fall. He leaned into his father's embrace, hugging with a desperate need for the contact he hadn't had since childhood. "Blainey-boy, it's okay. You have _nothing_ to be sorry for." Blaine felt a gentle splash of something warm and wet hit his forehead, and he realised that for the first time in his life, he was hearing his father cry. The knowledge made his heart break, and he hugged his father even closer. After a few minutes, Jeff Anderson pulled away from his son, holding him at arms' length and gripping his shoulders firmly.

"I _love you_, son. _I'm_ the one who should be saying sorry. I… I didn't know how to handle it when you came to me, all those years ago." Tears stained Jeff's cheeks as he tried to explain. "I had very little experience with Gays, Blaine. I don't meet them, I don't interact with them, and if there are any in my social circle, they certainly haven't come out of the closet around me." Jeff huffed a little, trying to organise his thoughts.

"When you first told me about… well, _you_, I honestly thought you were joking with me. I figured, haha, jokes on you dad, we'd all laugh, and you'd go back to liking girls. But then I realised you were serious, and all I could think of was what had I done wrong?" Blaine's breath hitched as he listened to his father pour out his soul. This was a far deeper conversation than they had ever had before, and Blaine was drinking it in with every ounce of being.

"I still feel like that, sometimes. That I did something, _said_ something, that made you hate women so much that you'd prefer to sleep with a _guy_ than a girl. But then I started doing some research. This was after you started going to Dalton, Blaine, just to give you a time reference," Blaine nodded again. It would have been right after he had told Wes and David about his last high school.

"I discovered that being gay actually isn't a choice, if all of the gay people I've talked to online are correct. That you actually are born like that, and it's hardwired into that curly little head of yours." Blaine smirked, knowing his father envied his curls. "And that I _haven't_ actually done anything wrong by you." Jeff's breath hitched at that statement, as though he wasn't really sure if he should believe it or not. Blaine reached over, squeezing his father's shoulder, just as Mr. Anderson had done so many times for Blaine.

"I know you should hate me for the things I've said over the years. The things I've _done_ to make you seem straight. Like the car," Jeff added, his tears overflowing once again. Blaine reached over and wrapped his arms around his dad's middle like he used to do when he was young. He rested his head against his father's chest.

"I _love_ the car, Dad," Blaine offered, sneaking a look at his little mustang, parked in the driveway. He really did love the car, even if it was all battered and beat up. He and his father had assembled it _together_, and even if it hadn't turned him straight like his father had wanted, they had still had fun and enjoyed each others company during the build. "I never want _any_ other car." _Because we built it together,_ was left unsaid but understood by both men.

Kurt bounced back out to meet the men standing tearfully in the driveway. He took one look at the men, wrapped in each other's embrace, and stopped dead in his tracks. His smile vanished, and he raced over to Blaine, gripping his hand tightly.

"Oh my _God_, Blaine, is he _dying?_ Is _that_ why he let me take out the Enzo?" Kurt's hands flapped all over as he fussed, and both Jeff and Blaine burst out laughing.

"Wow, you guys are quite the pair!" Jeff chuckled softly. "Do I really look like I'm _dying_?" Blaine erupted into more giggles, with Kurt joining in soon after as Blaine and Jeff explained that the question had already been posed by Blaine earlier.

"We're all right, Kurt," Jeff explained, wrapping both boys up in a tight hug that left no room for them to question his motives. "I just haven't been able to hug my son for a very long time, and I'm now realising just how much I missed it. Thanks to you, my boy, all thanks to you,"

Mrs. Anderson chose that moment to pull into the driveway, exiting her sleek BMW and taking in the sight of the three teary-eyed men.

"Oh my _God_, Jeff, are you dying?" she asked helplessly, her eyes beginning to fill with tears.

The three men stared at her, then at each other, and then began laughing again.

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><p><strong>So, a resolution of sorts. Mr. Anderson isn't really the mean old man everyone takes him for. At least, that how I see it. Up next? CHRISTMAS! XD<strong>


	7. Chapter 7

**Okay. I'm gonna get all emotional on you guys for a minute. I just wanted to thank each and every one of you guys for your favourites, alerts and reviews. You guys genuinely make me incredibly happy knowing that you like my stories, and I've cried several times when getting reviews. You guys are all so amazing, and I never, ever, want to stop hearing from you. I'm sure one day I'll most likely stop writing, or at least stop posting here (I hope not, but it could happen) and if and when that happens, I'm going to be devastated. You guys have no clue how much it means to me knowing that you are actually _anticipating_ a chapter of my stories. And now I'm crying again. _Thanks, Hermione._ (Congrats, you know you're a StarKid when you just read that in Joey Richters' voice, like I did!)**

**So, apparently, my beta, GleekMom, sat in the McDonalds parking lot when reading this, and I made her cry! Awwww. I'm sorry hun, but I guess that just means this chapter is as good as she seems to think it is. For anyone who doesn't know, (Which is probably all of you except GleekMom), I scrapped this chapter something like seven times and completely re-wrote it twice before I sent this to her for Betaing. I, unfortunately, have not been able to really get in the Christmas spirit this year. It's my first one without having my kids around all the time, and my second without my ex-husband. I'll be going to my family's for Christmas dinner, but that's really all. So, I've spent the last five days or so working on this and listening to Glee Christmas music. I must say, the Glee version of the Island of MisfitToys song, is definitely my favourite. Sorry Klainers! BICO takes second place, only because hearing Kurt sing about being a water pistol filled with jelly gets me every damn time! XD**

**So, Merry Christmas to all of you! This is my present to you, a chapter that is a little bit longer than the rest of them. Also, an authors note that is a little bit longer too (How the devil did _that _happen?) Love you all, I hope the holidays are great for each and every one of you, even if Christmas isn't your thing! Happy Chanukah, Happy Kwanza, whatever you celebrate I hope it's a good time of year for you! Now, quit reading this incredibly long A/N and start reading the story! XD**

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><p>Kurt blinked softly against the pale moonlight streaming in from the window. He had woken, his heart pounding with excitement as he realised what day it was. He looked over at his very own alarm clock, that his mommy had bought for him for his birthday, and noticed the time that he could read all by himself. 4:38AM.<p>

So. It was still really early. So why had he woken up? He lay there, dozing a little, until he heard the sounds of someone moving downstairs. He sat up, missing the warmth of his blankets immediately, and wrapped his arms around himself to keep his heat in. He slipped slowly from the bed, sliding his feet into the soft slippers by the bed, and shrugging on the warm bathrobe he used after his showers. Then he stole to the top of the stairs, wondering if he should risk slipping down them to see if Santa was there.

His hand rested lightly on the banister, his blue-green eyes trying to focus on what was happening in the living room below him. All he could see were shadows, but it looked like two people, rather than one. He climbed carefully down the stairs, making sure to miss the creaky one the sixth from the bottom. He placed his feet carefully, remembering what his father had told him about the stairs being dangerous if he fell. There was a turn on the stairs, and if he fell, he would smash his head on the wall, so Kurt took his time.

When he reached the bottom of the stairs, he was surprised to see, instead of Santa, it was his parents. His mommy was sitting on the couch, watching daddy put presents under the tree. They were smiling and giggling softly at each other, and all of a sudden Daddy picked up a present and held it out to her.

"What's this one?" Kurt's mommy laughed, her musical voice tinkling like soft bells as she tried to keep her voice quiet.

"That's the tea set you bought him in June, Burt," she stated softly, her eyes full of love and laughter as his Daddy huffed, and put the present under the tree gently. He was finally finished placing the presents, and carefully sat beside his wife. She snuggled into his side, and he wrapped his arms lovingly around her. Kurt smiled. He knew he had a very special family. They all loved each other very much, and he knew a lot of kids at school whose parents weren't so lucky. Andrew Jacobs' parents were getting a _divorce_. Kurt wasn't really sure what divorce was, but knew it was bad.

"I swear, Burt, as soon as you wrap them they go completely out of your mind!" Kurt's mommy laughed again, and his daddy giggled beside her. Kurt's eyes widened, and so did his smile. Daddy _giggled_. The same way Kurt usually did! He clapped his hand over his mouth to stop himself from joining in to the soft laughter coming from the couch. "I'm never sure who is more surprised on Christmas morning," Kurt's mommy continued. "Between you and Kurt, both of your reactions are priceless!" The two on the couch giggled again, and then suddenly the scene faded away.

Kurt was no longer on the stairs, watching his parents enjoying themselves. He was sitting in his room, and he was crying. A year had passed since the night when his mother and father had been on the couch, giggling softly, and he missed the simpler times. He was older, by a year, but he felt so much older that he almost couldn't stand it. He clutched the small ceramic teapot to his chest, and wiped his nose with his sleeve. Then he felt mildly disgusted by what he had done, and walked to the bathroom to blow his nose properly.

When he emerged from the bathroom, he heard sounds in the living room. His heart leapt in his chest, remembering what had happened last year when he had crept down the stairs. Would he get a Christmas miracle? Kurt raced as quietly as possible to the top of the stairs and descended, missing the sixth from the bottom as it squeaked.

He sat in precisely the same spot as last year, and looked into the living room. To his dismay, there was his father, slowly pulling presents from a large plastic bag, identical to last year. There was no joy in the room. In fact, his father had tears rolling down his cheeks as he carefully placed the presents under the tree. He was muttering to himself, and Kurt could make out some of the words.

"…it's a train set, Elizabeth…" Burt pulled a long present from the bag, placing it with tender care beneath the pine boughs. "See? I never forgot what I bought him, Liz. I just always loved seeing your reactions when you thought I had…" Kurt's father broke down, kneeling on the floor, his hands covering his face as he cried. It hurt Kurt's heart to know his father hurt so badly, and so he shuffled slowly into the room, waiting for his father to acknowledge him.

When Burt looked up, Kurt's heart broke into a million pieces. He had never seen his father look so broken as he did right then; he had always been so strong since Elizabeth had died. Burt sniffled softly, focussing on his son in the dim light of the lamp.

"Kurt? What are you doing up, son?" Burt wiped away the tears as though they had never happened, although his face was still slightly splotchy. Kurt moved across the room quickly, launching himself at his father, who caught him and held him close.

"I miss mommy," Kurt began crying again, wrapping his arms around his dad and begging for the pain to go away in his heart. It wasn't fair! He said so out loud.

"I know it's not fair, buddy." Burt's voice was filled with sorrow, and Kurt could almost hear the tears streaming down his face again. "I miss her too. But you and me, we are good, okay?" Burt pulled away from Kurt a little, raising his tear stained face to look him in the eyes. "You and me, we're going to be just fine. We're going to miss mommy, but we're going to do it together, okay? No more crying alone. I love you, and if you need someone to hold you when you miss mommy, just you tell me, all right? And if I need you, I'll tell you too. Promise?" Kurt nodded softly, his vision blurry from the tears. He blinked rapidly, trying to clear his vision, but everything faded again.

When things cleared he was in Burt's old workshop. It smelled like motor oil, and grease, and the sounds of the air ratchet reverberated in the small space. He looked around, wondering why he was here. Then his mother and his father stepped out from the office. Kurt's eyes widened, as he realised they couldn't possibly be here together. His dad had bought the shop after his mom had passed away, and she had never been there in her life. Kurt finally understood that he was dreaming.

"Oh, Kurt, my darling little boy," Elizabeth said softly, holding her arms out to her son. Kurt hesitated for only a moment, then launched himself into her waiting embrace. He began weeping openly, his lungs breathing deeply of the slight floral jasmine and vanilla scent she always wore. He remembered the smell so well, especially as he kept a small bottle of it around to keep her memory alive. He simply stood there, breathing her in. Then he felt a soft touch at his back. He turned around, and stepped into his father's waiting arms as well. His tears never stopped. He breathed in his father now, a mix of motor oil and Old Spice after-shave. It was a scent more familiar than his mother's vanilla and jasmine; it had been comforting for so long Kurt only needed a whiff of it to calm him.

Burt pulled back, his soft eyes watching his son carefully. When he spoke, it was with a breathy quality that Kurt had never before heard from his father: his voice almost echoed with deepness, but reverberated in a way that made Kurt wonder about it. He didn't know why his father spoke like that; after a few moments he didn't care.

"Son. Our Kurt. We love you. So very much. We are so sorry for everything you've been through the past couple of years." Burt rumbled. His mother came forward, her fingers entwining with Kurt's as she leaned forward to press a kiss against his cheek. She took over the talking.

"Kurt, I know we left you alone, in a world that doesn't accept who you are. And for that, I am so sorry. If I could go back in time and reverse it, I would." Kurt's chest hurt as he sought to drag more air into his lungs. He felt like he was going to explode.

"Kurt," Burt continued. "We need you to keep fighting, Kurt. You are so much stronger than you believe. And you have Blaine to keep you grounded. And you have Carole and Finn to keep you sane. They _are_ your family too, Kurt. Never think that they aren't. They care for you just as much as Liz and I do. And they are there, waiting for you to embrace them…" Burt's voice trailed off, becoming nothing more than a distant memory, as Kurt began his slow trek to wakefulness.

Kurt opened his eyes to the soft sound of water running. He sat up in bed, and felt a tear slide down his cheek. He looked around; he was at Blaine's. He had taken up sleeping in Blaine's bed with him, and the covers beside him were still slightly warm. Kurt drew in a long, shuddering breath, and began to cry in earnest. He hadn't dreamed of his parents in a long time, and to have them show up in his dreams now meant that he truly did have a lot of stress in his life.

He pulled his knees up to his chin, and wrapped his arms around them, trying to gain some warmth and strength from the motion. When Blaine finally emerged from the bathroom, Kurt had fallen back to sleep, his head resting on his knees and his back was propped up against the headboard. Blaine took note of the tear tracks on Kurt's face, and he slid the man back into bed. He kissed his love good bye, ever thankful that today was Kurt's one day off this week, gently covered Kurt with the blankets, and left a note on the pillow, letting Kurt know he had headed in to work. He left the other man snoring gently.

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><p>Kurt was genuinely flabbergasted. His mouth kept opening and closing like a fish as he stared at the paycheck he held in his hands. He looked up at Melody, who watched his face with some concern.<p>

"Is it not enough?" She asked hesitantly, reaching her hand up to his shoulder and squeezing slightly. The touch brought him out of his trance and he launched himself at her, wrapping her up in a huge hug.

It was now three weeks after Kurt had begun working at Forever 21 with Melody, and he had just received his first pay. He pulled back from the hug, and Melody was concerned to see tears in his eyes.

"Hey, look, I'm sorry if it's not enough," Melody apologised, but was stopped by the man before her.

"It's too _much_!" Kurt replied, wiping a tear from his eye as he focussed on the slightly over a thousand-dollar check in his hand. Melody looked at the check, and frowned.

"No, that's the amount I signed for. After all, you _are_ the Assistant Manager now," Melody smiled softly as Kurt gasped. He knew Melody had asked his opinion a lot over the course of the past three weeks, but he had never in his life expected to be promoted after three weeks.

"You… you can't just let some guy off the street take over the Assistant Manager position, Melody," Kurt chided her gently, and she smiled back.

"You aren't just some guy off the street anymore, Kurt. I never would have managed to get through this holiday season without you. After everything we've done together these past few weeks, I needed you to know I find you indispensable. I don't want you going _anywhere_." And she pulled Kurt back into another hug. "Now go, and have fun! It looks like Blaine is waiting for you!" Melody gestured to the front of the store, where Blaine was indeed standing waiting for him. Kurt hugged Melody one last time for good measure, and went to catch up to his boyfriend.

It was two days until Christmas, and Kurt hadn't bought anything for anyone. He hadn't had the money. Now, as he walked around the mall with Blaine, he mentally made a list of everyone he had to buy gifts for.

"…and then the elf said just shoot it… uh, Kurt?" Kurt blinked, his focus coming back onto the man he loved, who was staring at him in some trepidation. "You okay?" Blaine asked softly, his hand coming up and resting gently on Kurt's hip. "You're being awfully quiet today. Usually you're chattering like a blue jay after work. What's up?" Kurt couldn't get enough of the adorable concern on Blaine's face, and smiled at the other man.

"Pay day," Kurt grinned, earning himself an answering grin from Blaine. "Wanna help me get gifts for everyone?" Blaine wrapped Kurt's hand in his own, gesturing in front of him grandly.

"Lead on! I'll follow wherever you want to go!" And Kurt happily pulled Blaine around the mall until closing time.

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><p>Christmas dinner was being held at the Anderson's. It was the only place where everyone fit. The Anderson's were there, of course, as were Carole and Finn. Melody had closed the store early, and had brought her boyfriend and her kids. Rachel and her dads were there, and most of the glee club. Coach Beiste was there. Mr. Schuester and Ms. Pillsbury were there too. A few of Blaine's former high school friends were there as well; they called themselves Warblers. Kurt wasn't sure what to make of that. Even Sue Sylvester had been invited, but she had chosen to remain absent as they had not provided her with an actual reindeer to eat for her Christmas dinner.<p>

"It's not Christmas until you've shot, killed and eaten reindeer!" Sue had said sardonically, before pulling on her ski mask, clambering onto her snowmobile, and barrelling off to who-knows-where. Kurt didn't even want to _think _about where she was going.

The house had been decorated by the staff, but the tree had been put up by the family. Kurt had been included as part of the family, and so had been there when Mr. Anderson had made the announcement that he was throwing a large Christmas feast, and would Blaine and Kurt please invite all of their friends.

Now it was Christmas Eve, and the party was in full swing. Rather than having the staff wait on them, Mrs. Anderson had asked that the dinner be set up buffet-style, and the staff were given the rest of the evening and Christmas day off. As everyone piled their plates high with turkey and all of the trimmings, Kurt couldn't help but be astonished at the amount of people that could fit into this dining room. Sure, he'd known it was huge, but this was getting crazy. There had to be over a hundred people in the room, and although all of the chairs were full, it wasn't any kind of formal arrangement. People were continuously coming and going from the room, as the entire house was open to the guests.

Kurt had plunked himself down beside Blaine, his plate significantly less full than his boyfriends'. Blaine looked over at Kurt from where he sat, his eyebrows raising as he took in the small amount of food on Kurt's plate. His eyes questioned silently, as his mouth was full and he didn't want to be rude.

"I'm not about to allow myself to get fat just because turkey is so good," Kurt commented acerbically, looking down at his plate as he slowly flushed at Blaine's attentiveness. Blaine carefully finished chewing and swallowed, then replied in his own way.

"Take as much or as little as you want Kurt. I won't force you to do otherwise. But know this; I wouldn't think you were fat if you weighed three hundred pounds. I think you are perfect the way you are, and no force on earth is going to make me change my mind. I love you." Kurt blinked softly at the comment and the admission, and felt his heart swell with love for the other man. Perhaps he _would_ take a bit more; once he was finished with what was on his plate, anyway.

Once dinner was completed, the guests congregated in the den. With over a hundred people in the large room, it didn't feel quite so large anymore. In fact, it seemed decidedly small, especially with the twelve foot Christmas tree that dominated the corner of the room. There were presents under the tree, which Kurt had believed were simply there for decoration. He could not have been more wrong.

"Ho! Ho! Ho! Joyeux Noel!" Came a booming voice from the hallway, and Kurt had to cover his mouth from giggling incessantly. Apparently, Alain had been conscripted to play the part of Santa. This would be interesting, to say the least.

"'Allo to all you boys and girls who are waiting for me tonight…" Alain slurred softly, and Kurt actually did break out in giggles. Apparently someone had spiked Alain's eggnog, because the man was definitely not quite sober at the moment. As he handed out gifts to the people in the room, there were quite a number of quick laughs as Alain got names wrong, mispronounced names, and even called a few people who weren't there. Kurt found the situation hilarious.

"Maintenant, I would be happy to give un cadeau to my good ami, Kurt Hummel!" Kurt laughed again, along with a number of other people, as he made his way to the front of the room. Instead of just handing off the present like he had with everyone else, Alain grabbed Kurt's hand and twirled him, so that they were standing facing the rest of the room. Kurt felt his face heat up as he giggled nervously. What the hell was Alain doing?

Alain pulled a small present from the farthest corner of beneath the tree. It was tiny, no bigger than his hand, and Kurt wondered what on earth it could be. As he accepted the gift from Alain, he felt the other man's arms go around him, pulling him in for a warm hug.

"This gift, it's from all of us. Everyone here." Alain breathed softly, pulling back just a bit, and kissing Kurt gently on both cheeks. Kurt flushed again, his eyes bright with unshed tears. It had been so long since he had felt at home and wanted, that the feelings were now overwhelming him. "Go on, Kurt. Ouvrez le boit."

Kurt pulled at the wrapping paper, not noticing the silence that had descended over the room. Everyone watched as he opened the little box, confusion flickering over his face as he pulled out a set of battered old keys. He held them up, his heart leaping in his chest as he recognised them. The tears began sliding down his face, and a great, wracking sob erupted from his throat. Blaine came forward with a concerned look on his face.

"Kurt? Kurt, are you okay?" Blaine wrapped the other man up in his arms, cuddling him close. "I'm sorry if it's not what you wanted. We… _I_ just thought this would be more personal, you know?" Blaine's voice cracked as Kurt's arms squeezed him tight.

"It's…" Kurt shuddered, trying to regain his voice. "It's the keys to my old house. I lost them… forever ago… I didn't… How did you…?" Carole stepped forward at this point, her eyes full of bright tears too, and wrapped Kurt up in her arms.

"You left them at our house, sweetie. Before you left. They were on the counter for a few days before I realised you weren't coming back to get them. I put them away for you, until you returned. But you never did. But Kurt, the keys are only part of the present," Kurt looked up anxiously. What else could they have possibly gotten for him? He watched Mr. Anderson walk up with a slight smile on his face. He was holding a sheaf of papers that seemed important. He held them up as he got closer.

"Son, we all wanted you to know how much we care about you." A rumble of agreement filled the room; even the people Kurt didn't know so well were smiling at him. What was going on? "Your friends and family have gathered together to give you the one thing we know killed you to lose. This," Mr. Anderson held up the paper. "This is the mortgage to both your old home and your father's garage, Kurt." And Mr. Anderson threw the papers in the fireplace. Kurt gaped as he watched the fire consume the papers greedily.

"And this," Came a new voice as Mrs. Anderson stepped from the other side of the room. "This is the deed to the properties your father owned. _Both_ of them." She handed the papers to Kurt, who looked over them with blurry, tear-filled eyes. He could hear sniffles coming from around the room, and as he looked around, he saw the smiling faces of his loved ones. He was shocked. He wasn't sure what to do with this information. His friends; no, his _family_ had gathered together to buy him the one thing he wanted more than anything else: his life back. He couldn't go back in time and prevent his parents from dying. But he could keep them living on in his memories, and he would.

Kurt stepped forward, embracing both Mr. and Mrs. Anderson. He hugged Alain, and Mercedes, and the rest of the club. He hugged Mr. Schue, and Ms. Pillsbury, and even got a hug from each of the Warblers, Wes, David, Jeff, Nick and Trent. He made his way around the room, thanking everyone profusely, and crying the entire time. By the time he made his way back to the front of the tree, he was starting to endure a major headache from all of the emotions he was forced to deal with. Blaine found him there, and wrapped his arms around the taller man.

"You okay?" Blaine whispered softly, his voice low as though he knew that Kurt was in pain. Kurt nodded gently, sliding his hands to Blaine's hips, pulling him closer for a tight hug.

"I'm amazing, Blaine. I've never…" Kurt took a shaky breath. "I've never felt more loved than I do right now. I know that sounds horrible, because both of my parents loved me very much," Blaine nodded, his forehead resting against Kurt's lovingly.

"They did. But we do too, and we need you to know just how much we love you. _I_ love you." Blaine whispered again, his head tilting up just a touch to press their lips together softly. "You ready to go? You look like this has been kind of overwhelming for you," Kurt chuckled tearfully.

"Hmmm…. You think?" Kurt kissed Blaine again, and then pulled away, nodding at the curly-haired man that he was ready to go. Blaine raised his voice then, calling out that he and Kurt were about to retire for the night, and anyone who wanted to say good night had better do so now. A shuffle was heard out in the hallway, and a feminine voice called back "We're not quite ready!" A giggle ran through the crowd as they listened to the exchange, and then the voice from the hall called back "Okay, now we're ready!" Blaine shook his head in amused exasperation. A set of drums and a guitar started from somewhere in the hallway, as the old members of New Directions and the Warblers filed into the room, singing together.

Finn took the lead, as usual. Kurt smiled softly to see the man take up the lead naturally, as though he had been born to it.

_It's Christmas time, there's no need to be afraid _

_At Christmas time, we let in light and we banish shade _

Mercedes took the next verse, and sang it with all of the heart-felt joy she possessed. Kurt felt his heart swell with love for the girl.

_And in our world of plenty, we can spread a smile of joy!_

_Throw your arms around the world at Christmas time _

The beat and the pace picked up, and Kurt giggled a little to see Rachel step forward, her eyes lighting up as she sang. No matter how he hated her diva better-than-anyone attitude, he had to respect her as well. The girl could sing!

_But say a prayer - pray for the other ones _

_At Christmas time it's hard, but when you're having fun _

Sam joined in, his voice mingling with Rachel's to make a beautiful duet.

_There's a world outside your window, And it's a world of dreaded fear _

_Where the only water flowing is a bitter sting of tears _

_And the Christmas bells that ring there are the clanging chimes of doom _

_Well tonight thank God it's them instead of you _

Everyone standing there began to sing, and Kurt had never been prouder of his friends. They were singing from the heart. This had been rehearsed, but it wasn't a competition. Quinn wasn't fighting with Rachel, Sam had his arm slung around Puck's shoulders in camaraderie, and even the Warblers were relaxed and having fun.

_And there won't be snow in Africa this Christmas time _

_The greatest gift they'll get this year is life _

_Where nothing ever grows, No rain or rivers flow _

_Do they know it's Christmas time at all? _

_Here's to you, Raise your glass for everyone _

_Here's to them, Underneath that burning sun _

Suddenly the entire room began singing. The sound echoed off the walls, and Kurt couldn't hold back his tears any longer. The group singing shuffled up to him, and they all leaned forward, one at a time, hugging him and showing how much they cared.

_Do they know it's Christmas time at all? _

_Feed the world _

_Feed the world _

_Feed the world _

_Let them know it's Christmas time and _

_Feed the world _

_Let them know it's Christmas time and _

_Feed the world _

With a chorus of good nights from all the partygoers, Kurt and Blaine slipped away. They made their way to Kurt's bedroom, hands clasped tightly as they walked. Kurt let out a huge yawn, his other hand clenching tight to the keys that were so incredibly important to him. Blaine smiled as he watched where Kurt was going; deftly maneuvering him around a large potted plant when it looked like Kurt wasn't going to dodge.

When they made it to Kurt's room, Blaine pulled back the covers on the bed while Kurt mused, thinking back over the last couple of years and wondering if he really could go back to the way things were. He was starting to, of course. Having his friends and family back in his life started the process. But, could he handle being in the garage without Burt? His breath gave a little hitch as he wondered, and a tear slowly trickled down his cheek.

Blaine watched his boyfriend reminisce. As he watched the tear fall, he correctly guessed that Kurt was missing his father. He wrapped his arms around Kurt, tugging him close, and held him gently as the man cried. By the time Kurt finally fell asleep, Blaine was so heavy-lidded himself he couldn't have made it as far as his own bed if he'd tried. So he slid down a bit further, flicked the covers over both of them, and slipped silently into sleep; content in the knowledge that Kurt was going to be okay.

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><p><strong>Happy Holidays, you guys. I love you, one and all.<strong>


	8. Chapter 8

**Hey All. I hope everyone had an amazing holiday. Merry Christmas, Happy Chanukah, Happy Kwanza, whatever you celebrate, I hope it was joyous. **

**Here's another chapter for all of you. I had a heck of a time writing it, but it all came out right in the end. Pretty sure it's just a filler chapter, so I hope I don't disappoint you too much. **

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><p>"Hey, kiddo," Brian's voice floated to Kurt's ears as he walked into the garage where he had spent so much of his childhood. He looked around, seeing the familiar face peeking out from under a '92 Dodge Neon. He smiled softly at the man, resting his hands lightly on the hood of the car.<p>

"Hey, Bri… How've things been?" Kurt asked quietly, noting the sounds of other mechanics working around him. Apparently they had hired a couple of new people since the last time Kurt had been here. His mind flashed back to an argument, and resounding guilt flushed through him.

"Things have been… okay, Kurt." Brian replied, hesitant to answer at the flickering of emotions that ran across the young man's face. "It's not… the same, of course. But we make do. A lot of our regulars sent cards, and they keep coming back, even if it's me working, and not…" Brian trailed off, a slight blush creeping up his neck, and he rubbed the back of his neck in shame for even bringing up the subject.

"Not… Dad." Kurt finished softly, looking away from Brian. It was hard, being back here again. He looked around at the shop, willing his tears to recede, and spotted one of his favourite regulars. He waved at Brian with a quick "I'll be right back," and made his way over to her 2006 Lincoln Towncar.

"Hey, Mrs Ettles!" Kurt walked straight to the woman, who peered up at him through her thick glasses.

"Well, bless my soul, if it isn't young Kurt!" The delighted woman took him in her arms and hugged him tightly. Kurt hugged back gently; Mrs Ettles was in her seventies and although she still drove everywhere, she was quite frail, health-wise. He led her over to the comfortable couch his father had installed for waiting customers, and got her settled.

"Kurt, I am so sorry for what happened to your father," Mrs Ettles advised, and Kurt immediately took a deep breath; he was still unsure about talking about his father. He still got tears in his eyes every time he thought about him. If he were to actually _talk_ about him, he might just break down. He gently steered the conversation away from his dad.

"Thank you, Mrs Ettles. So, how has Charlie been?" Charlie was Mrs Ettles' seven-pound Chihuahua. He usually went everywhere with her, and Kurt looked around for the little scamp. Mrs Ettles blinked, and her mouth twisted in a wry smile.

"Charlie's passed, I'm afraid," she answered solemnly, watching for signs of a reaction from Kurt. Mrs Ettles was a very astute old bird, and she knew Kurt was still hurting from losing his father. "He was old, Kurt," she soothed, as Kurt grimaced. "It was his time. Like mine is coming soon too. Oh, not yet, Kurt dear," she immediately placated as Kurt's head shot up in fear. "But soon. I still have a couple more years left in me."

Kurt couldn't take this anymore. Charlie was gone, Mrs Ettles was going, his father had been gone for a couple of years now. His eyes began to fill, and he slowly backed away from Mrs Ettles on the couch. He didn't want her to die; he didn't want anyone he loved to die. He knew he was being silly, that people died all the time, but he was going to miss her so very much. He didn't even realise she had taken his hand and was pulling him back towards her. He leaned in, and she held him close as his tears overflowed.

They sat there for a while, Kurt releasing his emotions, and she simply held him and cooed softly. He finally backed away, wiping his eyes with the sleeve of his shirt.

"Kurt, dear, you'll ruin your shirt doing that. Use this," Mrs Ettles murmured softly, before passing him a monogrammed handkerchief. He used the handkerchief on his eyes, wiped his nose a bit, and then noticed the small C.E. on the corner of the cloth. Mrs Ettles eyes shined softly as he turned to her, eyes questioning.

"Charlie Ettles." She explained simply, her hand reaching out for the soft cloth as he handed it back to her. Her voice became quiet as she reminisced. "He may no longer be with me, Kurt. But that doesn't mean he's gone. He lives on, sweetie. In here," Her hand reached out, and tapped Kurt gently on the chest. "As long as you always remember, the ones who leave us are never truly gone. They live on, in each of us. In our memories and thoughts." Mrs Ettles gave a soft chuckle. "That was vaguely reminiscent of the 'Lion King', wasn't it? My great granddaughter and I watched that this weekend!" The two dissolved into laughter, Kurt's tears drying up by the time they were finished laughing.

Brian wandered over to the couch, looking somewhat chagrined for interrupting.

"Sorry to bother you two, but Mrs Ettles, your car is ready to go," he murmured softly, and Mrs. Ettles jumped to her feet. Kurt swore she wasn't the frail old woman he had always thought she was. He was starting to believe she was a sprightly, vigorous woman that had simply taken the shape of an old lady to confuse him. He happened to murmur as much as he escorted her to her car. She turned to look at him, a twinkle in her eye.

"By jove, Brian, I think he's got it!" And the three erupted into laughter.

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><p>Blaine had just dropped Kurt off at his father's old garage, and was about to make his way back home when he received a text message.<p>

_Movie Night? ~Wes_

Blaine smiled. The last time he had gotten together with the Warblers for a movie night had been the night before graduation, and a lot had happened that evening. Jeff had admitted that he had been attracted to Nick, and then Nick confessed to having been in love with Jeff since sophomore year. Wes had finally handed over his gavel to Adrian, a sophomore with a big heart and an even bigger voice. Trent had confessed that he was moving, heading out to Los Angeles to pursue a career in acting, and every man there wished him luck with that. In all, it had been a night full of emotion and love; sharing stories about what had happened over the course of their time at Dalton.

_Everyone happens to be in town, if you're game. ;) ~ Wes_

Blaine smiled happily as he drove off, after texting Wes his answer.

_Wouldn't miss it for the world. ;) Mind if I bring someone? ~ Blaine_

Since Kurt had been having nightmares so much recently, Blaine wasn't about to let him stay home by himself, especially as Blaine's presence seemed to be the only thing that quieted him at night.

_Sure! Bringing Kurt with? ~ Wes_

Blaine paused at a red light to text back his answer.

_If that's okay? He still has nightmares. I'm hoping they go away soon, but… ~ Blaine_

_But until they do, he needs you. We get it, Loverboy. Bring Hummel along. We might even be able to break out a couple of the old stories! ~ Wes_

Blaine full out belly laughed at that, startling the elderly couple in the car next to his. He smiled politely as he drove away, wondering if the couple thought he was insane. Ah well. Who cares? He was about to have one of the best sleepovers he could ever think of. His boyfriend and his best friends were going to be altogether, and he couldn't wait.

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><p>"Blaine, I don't know about this," Kurt remarked warily, as they pulled up to the mansion that served double duty as Wes' parents summer residence. He tugged on his shirt, painfully aware that it wasn't up to the standards that this house implied. Kurt remained sitting, while Blaine jumped out and ran around to Kurt's side of the car. He opened the door, ushering Kurt out with a little click of the tongue.<p>

"Tsk, you aren't scared of a few boys, are you Kurt?" Blaine kept a teasing note in his voice, letting Kurt know he wasn't really being mean.

Kurt looked up at the mansion, looked back at Blaine and said in a stuttering voice, "D-Damn right I-I'm scared. What if they d-don't like me? What if I d-do or say the wrong thing, B-Blaine?" As Blaine searched Kurt's face, he realized that Kurt genuinely was afraid, and took his hand, rubbing his palm gently.

"Kurt, look at me." He tilted Kurt's head so he was the focal point of Kurt's vision, rather than the intimidating house. "I've known these guys for ages. They will _love_ you. You can't do or say the wrong thing, and even if you did, you would be instantly forgiven. That's how these guys operate. Besides," Blaine wiggled his eyebrows, making Kurt giggle softly. "You've already met at least half of them. At Christmas," Blaine explained, seeing Kurt's eyebrows rise at the explanation.

"Oh," Kurt murmured, and Blaine took Kurt's hand in his own. Kurt was pretty sure this was going to be the worst night ever. Leading Kurt to the front door, Blaine rang the doorbell, jumping in surprise when it opened immediately.

"Hey, guys!" Jeff shouted, jumping up and down as he ushered the men into the house. Nick stood close by, his head shaking slightly as he watched his boyfriend be hyper.

"Honestly, Jeff. You'd think we hadn't seen them just last month for Christmas!" Nick giggled softly, his hand reaching out and grasping Kurt's, pulling him in for a quick hug. Kurt blinked softly as the other man released him, a soft blush creeping up his cheeks. Jeff laughed and punched Nick lightly on the arm.

"Way to go, hun! You made Kurt blush!" And Jeff went off into gales of laughter, only slowing down when Nick threatened to tickle him senseless. They led the way through the house to Wes' den, where everyone's sleeping bags were set up for the movie night. Kurt looked around carefully, but couldn't for the life of him see a television screen anywhere.

"Uh… Where's the TV?" He whispered softly to Blaine, who smirked and waved his hand around.

"Oh don't you worry, Kurt. You'll have no trouble seeing the screen once the movie starts!" Blaine was starting to rile himself up from the hyper people in the room. Trent, Wes and David were all watching the Warblers antics, while Jeff was in the thick of things, with Nick watching carefully to make sure Jeff didn't hurt himself. Kurt sat carefully on one of the sofas that had been pushed to the side of the room, tucking his feet up under him as the men around him made a load of noise. Even Blaine made some noise, shouting and pounding people on the back as he reconnected with old friends.

Soon enough, though, they settled themselves on the sleeping bags scattered around the room, and Wes disappeared through a door next to the hallway closet. Soon, a tiny window was thrown open, and a projector nozzle was pushed through the hole. Kurt finally understood as the opening sequence to an action flick appeared on the opposite wall. Smiling vigorously, Kurt settled himself down next to Blaine, who bounced back and forth, grinning excitedly.

"Triple X! Totally one of my favourite movies!" He stage whispered to Kurt, causing some of the guys to shush him. "Vin Diesel is incredibly hot, don't you think?" Kurt snickered as a couple of guys groaned.

"Great, now we have to put up with you perving over the epicness that is Vin Diesel in all his badass glory. Thanks so much for that mental image," Wes high-fived David as they snickered softly at the front of the room.

"You guys _do_ know he's gay, right?" Blaine offered, grinning as every eye in the room flicked around to stare at him in disbelief.

"No. WAY." Jeff breathed, earning himself a quick snigger from Nick. "How the hell do you know that?"

"It was in the news," Blaine giggled as the movie was forgotten by seventy percent of the men in the room. "Or so rumour has it," he offered, as David pulled out his laptop.

It took a whole five seconds to quell the theory, as they googled "Gay Vin Diesel" and were bombarded with a bunch of snippets all pointing to the contrary. Blaine looked genuinely shocked about the whole thing, as David nodded wisely. "That's what you get for repeating gossip, Blaine. No one will ever trust your judgement again." He managed to keep a straight face for a grand total of three seconds before the entire room burst out laughing as Blaine turned six shades of scarlet. Even Kurt snickered a bit, resting his hand lightly on Blaine's arm.

"Well, he still _could_ be," Blaine protested. "He's just… very private. That's all. We should learn something from him," he vowed, and resolutely turned back to the screen, where Vin Diesel had just driven his stolen car off a bridge and parachuted down, landing in his getaway car.

The men settled down, watching avidly until the doorbell rang. Jeff and Nick turned to each other and yelled.

"I'LL GET IT!"

Together they raced from the room, both determined to be the first one to the door. Blaine laughed quickly, and explained it had been a competition since they were freshmen together, to see who could answer the door the fastest without looking flushed from running. The running total had Nick up on Jeff, 243 times to 221 times. Kurt looked suitably impressed as the men returned with their hands full of pizza.

Wes raised his eyebrows at Nick, who shrugged and said: "Me, again." Wes made a little tally on his iPhone, and Kurt was hard-pressed not to start laughing then and there. As the men all gathered around the pizza boxes, Blaine reached out his hand to twine his fingers with Kurt. They sat back down together, munching happily; Kurt had to admit to almost being nauseated when Blaine was able to force down nearly an entire pizza alone.

"Seriously," Kurt arched his eyebrow as Blaine went for his eleventh slice, his mouth pausing in his chewing as he quirked his eyebrow back in query. "How exactly do you manage to stay thin? I mean, you eat nearly as much as Finn, and you never seem to gain any weight! If I ate more than the two slices I had, I'd be as big as a house!" Blaine's eyes flashed in merriment, and he swallowed his bite before replying.

"I have a really high metabolism, that's all!" He crowed, causing another shush to erupt from the men still watching the movie. He toned his voice down a bit, whispering softly to Kurt. "I never stop moving, Kurt. That's part of why I'm not overweight. I'm constantly learning new songs and perfecting my dance moves. Even though I don't perform as much anymore, now that I'm out of high school, I still like to put on the occasional performance. And to do that I need to stay mobile. I should show you the rehearsal room my parents gave me after I turned eight. I took up singing that young and had been torturing my parents for weeks with my 'caterwauling'." Kurt snickered again, as he imagined eight-year-old Blaine, following his parents around the house, singing, _badly_, at the top of his lungs in order to get them to give him a room to sing in.

Blaine wrapped his arms around the boy who now lay beside him. As Wes got up to change the movie, a few of the other men were stumbling into the closet, pulling out pyjamas and getting changed right there in front of everyone. Blaine did likewise, grabbing a pair of pjs for Kurt, and handing them over solicitously.

"Bathroom is down the hallway, third door on the right, if you don't want to change in front of the guys." Blaine murmured softly, and Kurt blushed gently. He thanked him for the information, and stole quickly away. Upon finding the bathroom, he silently stripped, taking a look in the mirror at himself as he always did.

He saw the ribs sticking out from his chest. He saw the bones jutting out on his hips. He saw the pastiness of colour all over his skin. He saw the dark bruising of the needle punctures from where he had been in the hospital. But most of all, he saw the pink, puckered scars that laced over his body at odd angles. He knew what people would think of if they ever saw his body without clothing. They would pity him. They would cry, and tear their hair out, and be babies about it.

But the scars made him strong. Every scar he had over his lithe body, were made by the bullies who had tormented him over the years. And he had defeated them. Every last one of them. From the dumpster dives, when he had landed on broken boxes and glass, to the locker shoves, where he had repeatedly opened skin on his back and sides, and even to the small scar he had on his right palm, trying to remove the lawn furniture nailed to his roof.

He softly ran his fingers over the puckered flesh, his hands smoothing down the scars as he did every night. Wishing them away, and yet never wanting to lose them. Because they were evidence that he had survived. And if he had made it this long without succumbing to the pain, then he could hold out just that much longer. And he could hold out. Especially now that he had Blaine in his life to help him through it.

He wondered what Blaine would think if he were to show him the scars. Would he cry? Would he be upset that Kurt hadn't told him about these? Would he understand Kurt's need to keep something like this secret? A soft knock sounded on the door, and Kurt squeaked a little.

"Kurt? Need any help in there?" Blaine asked softly, his muted voice betraying his concern as he stood beyond the door.

"No! No, I'm fine. Just… just checking out a mole I found on my hip. It's nothing!" Kurt lied smoothly, the lie flowing quickly from his lips, as though he had nothing to hide. It was an old lie; something he had frequently told his father when he had dashed to the bathroom after school to patch himself up from another round of bullying. Blaine sighed on the other side of the door, as though he knew it was a lie, but unwilling to call Kurt out on it.

Kurt quickly changed into the pyjamas, and made his way back to the den, where everyone in the room except Blaine was engrossed in "Ever After- A Cinderella Story." Kurt nearly laughed out loud as the men in the room watched Drew Barrymore get her prince. So much for a room full of manly men.

He parked himself right beside Blaine, twining their fingers together, and sighed deeply as "Cinderella" threw an apple at her princes' head as he was departing with her father's horse.

Kurt decided as he sat there, quietly watching as each young man fell into an exhausted slumber, that he had been completely wrong. Tonight hadn't been a total disaster. Tonight had been _perfect_.

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><p><strong>See? Filler. With any luck, the next chapter will have more action.<strong> **XD**


	9. Chapter 9

**Hello to all my wonderful readers! So, to those who follow me on Twitter, you probably know I didn't get a chance to go to New York with everyone who was going this past weekend. Passport Canada, sucks. I will admit I was kind of bummed about not going, but it happens and theres nothing I can do about it, so why worry, right? There will always be another chance to go, especially with everyone who has been so kind, supportive and caring over the past while!**

**I dedicate this chapter to GleekMom, my Beta, as well as every soul who enjoyed each others' company in NY this weekend. I was there in spirit, if not in body, and I'm glad I am able to live vicariously through you guys! And you guys, GleekMom got to meet Telly Leung and Hunter Parrish, and some of the others got to meet DC's parents! How awesome is that? I'm totally jealous!**

**Anyway, here's the next chapter of Save Me. Hope you all enjoy.**

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><p>Kurt had somehow managed to find a balance between working at the garage, working at Forever 21, and getting his high school equivalency. At Blaine's request, he had gone back to school. He had studied hard, even when Blaine was begging him to come to bed, staying up until two and three in the morning, then waking up at six again for a shift at the store. It wasn't for much longer; his test was happening this Friday.<p>

In addition, he had been looking into getting a therapist. Once again, this was a request on Blaine's part, although he really couldn't blame him. Kurt's nightmares were still bothering him, even now, almost two months from the day he had passed out and been caught by Blaine.

His nightmares were horrifying. Most times, he was simply lost, which was disturbing enough in itself. But there were certain times when he was lost _and_ broken, his body not responding to anything he'd asked of it. He tried to walk, crawl, speak, but nothing worked right, and in his distress, he usually flailed in his sleep, managing once to give Blaine a black eye. The next morning, as Blaine held an ice pack over his eye, Kurt had gone online to look over the psychiatrists that were listed.

He had found a number of names that were in the general area. Now he needed to spend some time figuring out which one he could go to. He wasn't even sure if he wanted his therapist to be male or female. Which would be better? Could he even really spill his private thoughts to some random stranger like that?

Still, it would be better than feeling like he was dying every night. He made up his resolve to find a therapist, and quickly.

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><p>"So, Kurt. I understand you're here because you have been having nightmares, correct?" The woman looked at him, her eyebrow raised in query and he flushed from head to toes. He nodded softly, his eyes boring a hole into the carpet, he was staring at it so hard. He wasn't sure he wanted to do this.<p>

He had aced his exam last Friday, had been told he was more than adequate to have his diploma. Now it was Monday, and this was by far much worse than that exam he had taken. His nerves fluttered in his belly, making him feel like he wanted to vomit. This woman couldn't possibly know him; why on earth would she want to listen to his stupid problems? His eyes screwed up as he focussed on what she was telling him.

"Kurt? We can stop if you feel uncomfortable… No one is going to hurt you here. This is a safe place for you. But if you don't feel ready to talk…" She trailed off and he looked up at her.

She reminded him of Carole in a lot of ways. She had straight brown hair that was currently tied up in a French twist. She had glasses on, but her rounded face was motherly, and welcoming. She wore a suit, but instead of looking threatening, it suited her, and she looked comfortable in it. He sighed softly.

"I… I want to… But I'm… afraid," Kurt whispered the last bit, unsure if he would be mocked, or thrown out of the room. It was still difficult for him to admit, even to himself, that he was afraid of something. Since his father had died, there had been no one to listen to him anyway. Not until Blaine.

"I can understand that, Kurt. A lot of my patients have trouble opening up at first. I suggest you start with something that you do find comfortable to talk about, and try to lead up to what you really came here for. Would that be all right?" The woman, Dr. Amelia Soderberg, leaned forward, her eyes soft and encouraging, her voice low and soothing as she imparted courage and caring to the young man before her.

"Yeah," Kurt replied, taking a deep breath. He looked around the room, taking note of the multitude of books in her study, as well as the pictures on the walls and the framed photos on her desk. He picked one up gingerly, turning it to face her.

"Is this you?" He asked softly, and he watched her features soften.

"No, that's my sister, Emma. We're fraternal twins. She… she passed away a number of years ago." Kurt gasped softly, putting the picture down quickly but gently.

"I'm so sorry," he muttered, his face flushing with regret. "I lost both of my parents too. Does the hurt ever go away?" He brushed his fingertips under his eyes, destroying the evidence of moisture before it could betray him.

"No," Amelia stated sadly. Kurt rounded on her, eyes wide as he took in her honesty. "But it does get better." She amended, patting the seat beside her, inviting him to sit back down. "And eventually, after a while, it gets to be that you can go whole days without being sad. But the hurt never really goes away. You just learn to live with it, and move on." Kurt's face fell, and he knew she was being truthful. He sat down, leaning back against the pillows that she had piled onto the couch, and tucked his feet up underneath himself.

"So, what would you like to talk about?" Amelia offered, and he picked the first thing that came to his mind.

"I'm gay." Amelia blinked softly, the surprise in her eyes betraying the careful mask she slipped onto her face as he revealed that information.

"And?" She retorted, tilting her head slightly at him as though looking straight through him. He looked back at her, his eyes quickly searching for any sign of fear, hatred or disgust. He found none. In fact, if he didn't know better, he would think the expression in her eyes was more… sympathy? Concern? He really wasn't sure.

"What do you mean, and?" he asked nervously, wondering if he should have gone to see another doctor after all. Or maybe no doctor at all. Yes, that's it; he would cancel all of his further appointments because this woman wasn't going to accept him as he was, and he couldn't deal with trying to force her to like him, and oh god now she was watching him with those eyes and he was going to faint…

"Kurt. When I said you were in a safe place, I meant it. Being gay is not something to be ashamed of, and that's the type of feeling I'm getting from you right now. Is that how you feel? Are you ashamed of who you are?" Kurt's crystal blue eyes filled with tears, as he debated the question. Was he ashamed of being gay?

"No," he whispered, his voice cracking softly. "I'm not ashamed of being gay. I'm ashamed of being _weak_." His tears fell, slipping along his cheeks and dripping from the end of his nose. Amelia held out a box of tissues, and he pulled one and wiped his face.

"What makes you think you're weak, Kurt?" Amelia asked, her concerned eyes looking over the young man who looked so lost and so confused. His eyes rose and met hers, and a spark seemed to jump from them. It was all she could do to keep contact with his eyes.

"I'm weak because I _ran_, Doctor Soderberg. And I keep running. Every time something gets too hard, I _run_. I'm disgusting." Kurt's voice ended in a sob, and Amelia looked at him thoughtfully. Her heart broke for this poor soul, who was in a very dark place due to circumstances beyond his control. But as much as she wished she could lean forward and hug him, she knew she had to keep a professional distance.

"Why would you say you were disgusting, Kurt? Why that particular word?" she asked, her eyes taking in the defeated body language that Kurt was displaying. She could feel his mind click, trying to figure out an answer to her question. It was like a tangible force in the room. His tears ceased flowing, and he devoted his brain to thinking of an answer for her.

"Because I spent so long on the streets, I suppose." Kurt hiccuped a little, still trying to fight his emotions, but winning for once. "I did what I had to, to survive. I ate out of dumpsters, I slept in alleys, I walked the streets at all hours of the night." He wiped his face with his hand, his weary voice continuing even though he was so very tired. It felt good just to get it all out in the open.

"I could only take a shower twice a week. I went to the YMCA. Most of the time, I stank. I had to climb in and out of garbage to eat, and people held their noses when I was around. If I had been them, I would have held my nose too. It's different when you have no choice about how you look, or smell. I used to take being clean for granted." He looked back at Amelia, passing his hand through his hair.

"I would avoid anywhere multitudes of people congregated. School was definitely out, as were most malls, shops, parks, and whatever. I avoided my old friends like the plague. I couldn't allow them to see me like that." Kurt looked up into the eyes of the woman before him. He knew instinctively she was trying to provide him with comfort and soothe him a bit, and he was exceptionally grateful for it.

They continued speaking for much of the forty-five minutes that he was allotted. Then, just before he was about to leave, she stopped him with a word.

"We have a lot of work to do, Kurt." Kurt nodded softly, his eyes looking up to meet the soft grey-green eyes that watched his every move. "We're out of time for today, but I'd like to tell you something. Something I've observed from the last forty five minutes of sitting here with you."

"You are not weak. And you most certainly are not disgusting. You are, if I may be so bold as to say, one of the strongest people I have ever met." Kurt's eyes flew open, his mouth working furiously to protest, but no sound erupted. Since he didn't say anything, the woman continued.

"I have never seen anyone with such impeccable manners, a keen sense of fashion, and a subtle grace that carries you through your daily life. And I've known you for what? Forty five minutes?" Kurt nodded, his voice lost as this woman, this _professional_, voiced her opinion about his persona.

"The fact that you are still alive today, Kurt, boasts your strength. You have overcome not only the death of your mother at a young age, but also of your father, more recently. You took a tailspin, meaning that you found it difficult to cope. Most fully-fledged _adults_ would have had a hard time. But you, you were still a child. I can only imagine the pain and suffering you went through. And you did it alone." Amelia felt tears at the back of her eyes, and a lump at the back of her throat. She suppressed the urge to reach out and hug the young man, as he stood there silently, taking in her words as though she were a fountain and he a man dying of thirst. Clearing her throat gently, she continued.

"You told no one about how much you were hurting, and fled. If I had been in your position, I probably would have too. You managed to stay away from the normal perils of life on the streets, though. Do you know how rare that is, Kurt?" Her eyes pierced through him, pinning him there as though she was trying by force to make him see what it seemed everyone else in the world already knew, and yet conveying the sorrow and empathy she felt towards him.

"You never turned to drugs, you never turned to alcohol. That in itself was amazing. But you stayed away from sex too, even though I'm sure you would have been propositioned." Her breathing hitched once as he nodded, and she struggled with not showing any form of distress. Her voice remained calm, even though she knew she wasn't. She knew she had succeeded, as she watched the young man before her bite his lip, trying hard not to blush. He hadn't picked up on the emotions she hid beneath the surface.

"Most people on the streets have a way of coping. Be it drugs, alcohol, or prostitution, they find a way to _feel_ again. But you… you managed to do it without those things, Kurt. And that makes you so much stronger than you believe." Kurt couldn't believe the words he was hearing. She thought he was strong, and she actually proved it to him. He was completely flummoxed. He hadn't realised just how much he had avoided while being out there on the street. But when someone pointed it out, he couldn't help but admit that maybe, yeah, he actually was kind of strong.

"I'm afraid our hour is up," Amelia looked genuinely frustrated that the session was over. Kurt gave her a small smile, and she smiled back in return. "I hope you will think about returning to see me, Kurt." She reached out her hand in farewell, and she was almost shocked as he clasped her hand firmly, noting he had strong, solid, yet soft hands.

"I think… I think I'd like that," Kurt murmured, standing, and following the woman to the door. As she opened it, he graced her with a big smile, bigger than she had seen yet on him. Then he leaned forward and hugged her gently. She looked up in surprise as he pulled back, and made his way from the room, stopping at the receptionists' desk long enough to set another appointment for the following week.

She watched Kurt as he walked from the office, then turned and began making notes in the file she had dedicated to the young man. Kurt Hummel was an amazing young man, she thought to herself. There was no doubt about that. Time would tell if he would be able to overcome the difficulties that life had thrown his way.

* * *

><p>When Kurt awoke the next morning, he opened his eyes to find Blaine leaning over him slightly, head resting on his hand, smiling down at him. Kurt yawned gently, then stretched, feeling the bones and muscles pop, all the way down his spine.<p>

"Good morning, sleepyhead," Blaine whispered, placing a tender kiss to Kurt's forehead. Kurt smiled back, then frowned. Blaine was looking at him carefully, as though measuring him.

"Morning. Blaine, why are you looking at me like that?" Kurt was starting to get nervous. Blaine smiled again, brushing the hair back from Kurt's face as he thought about what to say.

"You didn't wake up last night," Blaine offered, and Kurt's eyes flew open. He sat up quickly, nearly dumping Blaine onto the floor in his haste. He looked around the room, and sure enough, the sunlight shone through the windows, and he glanced at the clock: 6:53AM. He had made it through an entire night without waking up from a nightmare!

Blaine chuckled softly as he watched the incredulous expression flit across Kurt's face, and he reached out, taking Kurt's hand in his own. Kurt looked at his boyfriend, a small smile creeping over his features as he leaned forward, placing a quick but firm kiss to Blaine's lips.

"I guess going to see Amelia helped," Kurt stated, passing his hand through his hair, carefully smoothing the ends down so it didn't stick up everywhere. He blinked softly in the sunshine from outside. "I feel better this morning too. Not so… lost." He wrapped his arms around his boyfriend in a tight hug, and they sat there for the few minutes they had left before the alarm clock went off.

When it did go off, Blaine turned it off, and then tugged Kurt from the bed. Kurt finally got the idea as Blaine led him to the bathroom. It was time for a shower, and maybe a heated make-out session before work. Kurt smiled again, for the first time in a long time, completely content with the world at that particular moment.


End file.
